I pick at the temporary tattoo on my wrists in the shape of a top-down helix. I brush away seared sienna shackles like an afterthought. It was bleak for an infinite year in this silent motel.
I spend my lifetimes in self-constructed constraints: cages, jackets, pledges and honor; they all bind the same. Held together by my own shortcomings and integrity. A stir my volatile mix of viscous venom; bluest blood; savage spit. Idly, with a single broken finger.
10:16 p.m. - 2015-03-30
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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