writing's not loud enough
I think I'll beat a hole in the wall
I'll smoke and quaver my
soul absence and I won't
care if it's bad, I'll just beat
until the paint flakes off
I'll percuss and wail my soul prism
in the dark world of rorschach fists
I'll crack warble and wail
I'll be a being beating machine
Monday, October 5, 2009
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