The beast he feasts upon me for meat. it picks at my stripped now sunbleached bones.
I wish for in look into it's eyes but seems i get no closer the more i try. and that is the way
our world dies. I think it should've been present... not lost in the smoke floating, blank in the sky.
fucking Christmas songs and then i can spend my time fires and glass... wired.bong rips and i
see her moist red lips and think about being in between those legs inside her thighs. ease the sunlight over the earth as the beast after the feast is hardly ready to cease his inclination toward human irradication. Too late can't save the planet dammit woe is me. prepare for calamity.