Charcoal-flavored manuscripts drip bittersweet nostalgia in my ear, and spread through my sinuses like malignance. Their construction is perfectly preserved in the cold and unfeeling permanence of depleted uranium. Each memory recalled with a brush of a fingertip and nudged about, before being handwaved away carelessly.
A collection of liquid snapshots weighs down my lungs with the breath of noxious truths, delivered with tight spiral rifling. I find newly revitalized realizations that punch through my brittle shielding of old beliefs. Every revisited examination delivers a nuclear payload of unwanted acceptance, while radiation sickness of acquiescence salves my internal hemorrhaging.
8:24 p.m. - 2014-12-15
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