She Was Unable to Articulate
These days pass like old kidney stones the texture on the ceiling an empty mountain range surrounding an inverted volcano that will resemble eternity dried blood stains the walls and all the clothes covering the floor every face is covered with a smile whether they liked it or not plastic sounds from a megaphone voice box command all three of the unaligned squares into conformity as rusty creeps crawl through the parapets of their oozing dark temple. This dust all over your skin it's fucking vile how crass.