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 . . .
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Your scalp itches. You don't feel it? Pay attention to your head. It itches. Why is it so itchy?
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