Disgusting hypocritical deeds, like whispering shadows. The stalking murk and mire rising at an alarming rate, choking off my voice and covering me whole.
Saddled with a moniker unable to ever be done justice. Stupid to believe that the high and worthy are within grasp, while I am down down down here, fighting off the cramps in my neck. Watching.
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Comments 25
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Contact not unwelcome, dismiss that thought.
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Ugh thank god, let's goooooooo.
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Head high, Sashsquash.
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Race you to the finish line.
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