~follow the buzzards~
Monday, 19 September 2016
Uplifted, but fuck with this. Just living. Much uplifted. Sucks, but shut it up. Just give it. Cut wrists and a fucked up pigment. Just in, I sipped what was dripping. Budged innocence. Tough luck Christian. Lust licked then flustered again. Dust on a hit. Puff-puff spin again. Stuck with it then. Shut up. Spit again. Mustn't give in. Just love when you're in. Trust it, because it's an element of sin. Never spend again. Residents give a grin. But is it a grin or budged innocence? Such isn't what sucks in this event. Something is fucked up if I isn't it. What seems to fuck up what I send again? Just be a cut above what I visit when I see an obscene obstruction of my innocence. Trust me. I'm fucked up when you listen in. Rust seems upstream when I duck up. Plus three. Lucky. Never stuck up. But please. My gut teases. What's love? Much needed sleep and bud puffed. It's not just a dream to me. It's occult.