"How original's the taste of sympathy... without a price or name?"
Sob-stories that end in my own pseudo-ego-tystical outbursts, but this isn't the first last or even most recent time of dispersing such uncomfortable silence. Without any form of suicidal antidotes besides therapy or valum, the only other selfish need would consist of this androgenous nature of which i'm becoming. Maybe i should just go under the knife and hack away what little manhood the good lord blessed me with and seal the wound shut. Becoming only a whore of an unmotivating nature. Only lustful by desires of blood, and social disobedience. Then again that would be sane-unlike any motifs of past martyrs. To castrate my own affection, and resume no longer amongst these tattered teenaged angsters, and leave only scents of cheap perfume-and eye shadow that are slowly discribing all ambitions that are never even mustered, yet alone possible of reaching...
This is just another way of saying thank you Jesus,
For this heap of grime and smut smeared amongst the table.
It is the attitude, and the ego that draws the forbidden anywhere near the presence of which they've made so shamefully holy. Yet one out of ten times this arrogance is controlled and contaminates only those such individuals to cum from it's mere aroma.
And then i'd have to do crunches and swallow pure protein and aqua for this sexiness to remotely be complete. How shameful could i possibly be, that in this whole attribute known as my "madness", or more simply put "mental-revisions", that an orgasm or two is neither obtained, nor accepted emotionally. Just love me- How simple...
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Testosterone of a metro-sexual... that is rich and easily spent in a world of differential aptitudes. I'll take what i can get, yet what i am about to give is neither beneficial, nor socially acceptable. If this is a way to mock what has already been ridiculed profusely, then just hold my head as i purge and vomit. Thanks for the experience-at least i can say you never gave me anything.
Nice Photos
Good Poems
Prettiful hair-style
Condition it well
that's just amazing
how that light stains your flesh
trickling oils
unashamed and so very conscious of the way you make your symolisms seemingly accepted by the desolate...
-How in fuck's sake could i ever compared with what you have to offer.. that is just Pish-Posh young mistress, yet maybe it's about time i take another risk-
and as the nail enter his nerve endings i wailed, "what a pointless mistake you're making "oh-holy-one"!"
This isn't enough chemical abuse to obtain sanity...
Maybe i should smear more red under my lids to comfort my untapped veins
This is just another way of saying thank you Jesus,
For this heap of grime and smut smeared amongst the table.
It is the attitude, and the ego that draws the forbidden anywhere near the presence of which they've made so shamefully holy. Yet one out of ten times this arrogance is controlled and contaminates only those such individuals to cum from it's mere aroma.
And then i'd have to do crunches and swallow pure protein and aqua for this sexiness to remotely be complete. How shameful could i possibly be, that in this whole attribute known as my "madness", or more simply put "mental-revisions", that an orgasm or two is neither obtained, nor accepted emotionally. Just love me- How simple...
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Testosterone of a metro-sexual... that is rich and easily spent in a world of differential aptitudes. I'll take what i can get, yet what i am about to give is neither beneficial, nor socially acceptable. If this is a way to mock what has already been ridiculed profusely, then just hold my head as i purge and vomit. Thanks for the experience-at least i can say you never gave me anything.
Nice Photos
Good Poems
Prettiful hair-style
Condition it well
that's just amazing
how that light stains your flesh
trickling oils
unashamed and so very conscious of the way you make your symolisms seemingly accepted by the desolate...
-How in fuck's sake could i ever compared with what you have to offer.. that is just Pish-Posh young mistress, yet maybe it's about time i take another risk-
and as the nail enter his nerve endings i wailed, "what a pointless mistake you're making "oh-holy-one"!"
This isn't enough chemical abuse to obtain sanity...
Maybe i should smear more red under my lids to comfort my untapped veins