When I reach the point
where all the days glob together
like a gelatinous bowl of half forgotten
moulding, peach flavored yogurt
or an amorphous waste of used
and left behind tissues
soiled by experience in the darkest corners
of the human psyche and physique
yellowed and aged like the
pages of a shitty John Grisham novel
read by pre-pubesent intellectuals
that smear the pages with masturbatory
excrement and overflowing hormone based emotions
Just kill me.
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Desperate, Bloodthirsty, ect.
