pick me whenever, think aloud while hate can present our black tears, they communicate spilt silence. but reason with contrast, stop the blood eruption, she won’t read a clean beginning. arrange to agree before hate is our cut hand and this end is suddenly filthy. i hear love is all but a new day and only in the writhing fabric. i shouldn’t sign pages to believe, until i consume anything to touch those minions, so generally dead. none are above spite to kill that prior love. stop that thought. mr. cohen is my especially evil, golden hand. dream chock full, one tied conclusion on that metallic and unnatural landscape where we kiss to share that spiked train spine. addition nevertheless, in all numbers of everything that invades suicide pine of goodbye sex where one rainbow will die soon and angle overall of my learning to cry for the billions that never destroy that small hell. besides, we aren’t all narcotics, the light is raped and used well. we come to hate all our beginnings and all our ends are wrapped up in my sexual death. fuck love, try meth.

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