alot of times I feel like the only way i should write and be able to express my heart flows through my digits and i feel it’s art and when it feels like that I don’t mind taking words I find locked inside my head and fists; in my stomach and my wrists the way they twist when coming out me feels like get the fuck out me but it remains locked inside me I sometimes want some surgery or a fucking apendectomy, give me a masectomy and let the chemo f with me,  anything to knock me out  or bring some morbid shit about….some fucking dispostion that gets me in a damn condition in which I’m  horizontally postitioned under a  tall brunette physician giving me some dirty head while I’m laying in a bed with dilaudid pumping through my veins so ill stop thinking I’m insane because i’ll just stop thinking.


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