| the_taste_of_blood_is_on_my_lips | ||
| so fucking lost |
and the ripples of screaming whirlwind around my head someone, somewhere is screaming back there in here as if there wasnt enough people to hate already |
030922 |
| ... | ||
| as the stomach turns |
i am george w bush. listen to my hateful spewing, as i chew and spout hatred through the lacky voice of the government, the trained and paid lap dog of FAUX news. see my malice as gold. you have no choice. kill. more kill. MORE KILL. |
030922 |
| ... | ||
| young pretender |
claret. i heard it called today. "you throw him like that, and there'll be claret all over the shop." i bit my own lip, abashed, and felt the bittersweet crimson rush to the surface. the metallic tang hot on my tongue, i fought back tears. |
041122 |