Stop. When you come to a stop sign, you stop. It's red. Just like the blood that flows through your veins, but so often fails to flow through your heart. It beats. An internalization of life with a realization of external nothingness. A void like an air bubble through your veins. It pops-- with all the force of a bullet straight out of your combustion engine. An art perhaps? With a metal brush.
i'm not building you up...
i'm just building the distance you will have to fall.
i am the greatest thing you will never experience.
my evolution is your extinction.
nothing worse... than a sheep in wolf's clothing.
the worst poisons are good for you.
