scrawled. |
layers of nothing permiate my everything.such is the dimness of menial existence.if only the tight ass rifle could comfort me.digression..
Posted by on Tue, 16 Jan 2007 19:51:00 GMT |
the winds will chap my skin |
Bloody finger tips touch my already so life less cold blue lips ading pigments to the already colorless flesh.
Posted by on Fri, 13 Oct 2006 18:20:00 GMT |
