

calling on wordsworth's ghostLook down upon the love thrown away. The coffee filters wallow upon a sea of the death of media. Writhing in self-pity and dissastisfaction towards the view of the vast expanse and the promise of future and fire escapes, I let out a little prayer to my neglectful god who is so tired of my worship. Thinking of my perch, my pawings, my preocupations with that which could have been us, He stomps on the delicate skulls of children, drinking in never recieved sympathy. In defense, I send out a dead pigeon with a note of protest which swiftly metamorphasizes into fuel for that engine driving on my agitators. &nbscalling on wordsworth's ghost


A Noble TraitorMy stomach curls up into a corner I feel it rolling itself up my back The pressure it puts on my neck, Well, it's making me feel nauseous. No way to vomit, No release to the pressure, When your means to do so Is causing the illness itself.A Noble Traitor
Mutiny! Mutiny! Reocurring cry against fallable aspects. My head is falling down further, The sick weak feeling is growing taller. The captain is horrible, but take a look at the crew! Emotionally vacuous meets hollowed innards, A cunning plan, I admit.
Soft skin and a softer moral code Offers
thanks for the fave.
^___________^
(the above comment is meant to be heard in a bad mexican accent)
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when the mode of the music changes, the walls of the city shake
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"Whatever you do will be insignificant but it is very important that you do it." -Gandhi
xray spex! cool taste in music!
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mercy here gets meaner overnight.
--
standing in white lines,
biblical beings precise
suffocated in
hairspray.
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