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 . . .
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
my tongue is bleeding
why is my tongue
why
it tastes familiar
like a needle
cutting
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