For whom wants to read.
Yearning of each day to execute the beginning of the end, in endless spirals of limbo. My heart patters slower by the tick, and it's true - at least in my consciousness. But silvered blades swing pendulums across sheer cells. The battery leaks and bleeds onto the lining of my stomache, burning through all lining. I want to shank my epidermis.
Yearning of each day to execute the beginning of the end, in endless spirals of limbo. My heart patters slower by the tick, and it's true - at least in my consciousness. But silvered blades swing pendulums across sheer cells. The battery leaks and bleeds onto the lining of my stomache, burning through all lining. I want to shank my epidermis.
