madness, bleeding out of my tear ducts like the slime oozing from the innards of corpses, dripping dew condensing on the stones that comprise the walls of the water well, screaming at me, tearing my bones into splinters
. . .
my subconscious is dripping, dripping red onto the pages of a glowing window somewhere . . .
Friday, June 22, 2018
Please stand by--the knots of worms in your skull have not yet finished growing eyes.
soon His eyes will be everywhere
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