CHRistmas Day 97

We all have our own ways of keeping quiet.
About this melodramatic happening and that small enterage'of kneeling
down and kissing the wretched filth you have redeemed upon yourself.
Rageful tendacies of biological blood.
Screaming rant rant
Waving that 45 around like it where a composers stick
Contemplating look in those eyes
BUt that would fuck everything up right?
Looking into eyes so cold
you don't know whether its safe to look away
in a strange kind of sadistic fear.
A what if
what if
flows though your mind
like molasses on a hotstack
sunday morning.
Tears come down in an avalanche of
schizoprhrenic rage
Erratic breathing shakes your body to the point
where you feel the dinner in your stomach cringing to come out.
YOU turn the corner pause for a moment
at what is to come
thinking up some of the most irrational things that could happen
And you realize that it just did.
Twisted warped deranged I see
The worlds corrupt the world I see.
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