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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-05-19 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
A dropkick to my teeth here, a command there, and all to no avail. You fancy what you can never ever have [again]. Once upon a time I was infantile and pint-sized; and so effortlessly bled dry by you. The crown of thorns was placed upon my head and I was sent into my room; spit on again. This prison you built for me and called a palace was nothing more than your licentious delusion. I won’t be seated on this mountain of disgust; you cannot make me [anymore].
Child of Atrophy, Past turning it’s neck, Guillotine sharp and ready. The eyes of perversion are on me more often than not. Bottle reads- SideEffects: lunacy and anxiety. You were the drug forced in me from all sides. My razor tongue was not yet sharp then; today the slightest movement in my sector could be cataclysmic [foryou]. I was merely an object to you, a measly plaything in your anthology; I was the elastic.PLASTIC Barbie. The one not effortlessly ancient history or lobbed out-of-the-way. I saved something in memory of you… the sour milk to kill your sickening odor. ©JazzyJay,
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