Crapping sprinkles and breathing out happy fucking sun beams

And the pre-empting winds of a razor blades and rope shit storm are torridly reducing my dead eyes to a sunken state into which entire oceans of depression finely refined poison can sink with damning effect

What demons may consume are but a lick of the flames that await to roast the morbid sense of shriveled mortality that haunts this exsistance in the slightest fraction of a spec of sand upon the expansive damnation of a desert burning with loathing heat that will fall short of failing life so to venomously fill the walking damned with purest hatred for the step after torturous step up the dunes of discontented emotion to which only fated life await

Hell less a word but a formation of flesh that roams the happy crowds and pains with their merry touch an unforgiven beast onto which ghosts decend with each every claw to tear in jest with acidic edge that has been forged by every failed attempt to relieve this suffering until peaceful death

Should such mercy exsist

Thus I will wisely retreat from this public place

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2 thoughts on “Crapping sprinkles and breathing out happy fucking sun beams

  1. “Hell Is Other People.” That quote has been my desktop pc paper for six years. As someone who changes things up frequently, I think six years committed to that one theme…speaks volumes.

    I, too, shall exit this public forum.

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