I shall now be known as belial.
that's right Belial.
"im never coming back. they don't want me here. it's evident. i'm Just going to pass on like the waitress passing trays. She is empty when you feel deep enough. there are organs. but they have holes. like the ones in the cheese. i cant say ive ever felt so badly in a long time. the test of time has tested me. its broken now. we cant fix it. we never will. moms coming home. what will she do? nobody will notice. we'll patch things up. i know we will... right john? right!? i hope so. its empty here. one other, but noone. exempt from me. i have been for a while. the fertile feilds have become broken. patchworks of cracks spilling forth from the oil. i never thought id saw this. all of this. unspeakable. the love and the hate. the love and the loathing unimaginable. the knotted stomachs tied with dreams and hopes and all. it never felt like this with markers. it never felt at all like it. it always held the hope, when the bell rang, when the teachers sang, when everymore the shelves they beaconed. eversmile erotic. nothing less that dreams of the pipe. i always felt that this time would come. but knots they formed fore it had done of itself. i cannot escape imagine, i only hope for you. the rest rest in my mind. like broken bicycle stickers rode round trees filled up with gold. the emptiness began eating long before the dreams were birthed. they merely amplified. their sounds within shattered ears. the broken lies of self description. the swollen ego eating soul. never has this happened in this way. it simply eats the soul coreside. it simply rocks foundations wide.
"im never coming back. they don't want me here. it's evident. i'm Just going to pass on like the waitress passing trays. She is empty when you feel deep enough. there are organs. but they have holes. like the ones in the cheese. i cant say ive ever felt so badly in a long time. the test of time has tested me. its broken now. we cant fix it. we never will. moms coming home. what will she do? nobody will notice. we'll patch things up. i know we will... right john? right!? i hope so. its empty here. one other, but noone. exempt from me. i have been for a while. the fertile feilds have become broken. patchworks of cracks spilling forth from the oil. i never thought id saw this. all of this. unspeakable. the love and the hate. the love and the loathing unimaginable. the knotted stomachs tied with dreams and hopes and all. it never felt like this with markers. it never felt at all like it. it always held the hope, when the bell rang, when the teachers sang, when everymore the shelves they beaconed. eversmile erotic. nothing less that dreams of the pipe. i always felt that this time would come. but knots they formed fore it had done of itself. i cannot escape imagine, i only hope for you. the rest rest in my mind. like broken bicycle stickers rode round trees filled up with gold. the emptiness began eating long before the dreams were birthed. they merely amplified. their sounds within shattered ears. the broken lies of self description. the swollen ego eating soul. never has this happened in this way. it simply eats the soul coreside. it simply rocks foundations wide.