Why don’t you tell me who’s on the phone?

Wanted: Vicious red. Lamentation: You’re just stabbing around in the dark. Forever: A lifetime since I touched your dead flesh. Freeze: A slender stake to the heart. Relaxation: Stare hard at the floor. Cellar: Cop the fuck out, get the fuck gone. Synthetic: You can feel the ice in my veins through my skin. Unity: The f-word you fear most is “future”. Cringe: The c-word you hate most is “community”. Fountain: I don’t know any other way to love. Across: My body eats itself. Crux: Haul off, strike back. Abate: I feel your cowardice like a tick bite. Housebound: What did you sell to get what you’ve got? Foregone: Longing becomes a snake pit.

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~ by Athena on June 27, 2017.

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