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	The works of an incomprehensible mind.
	The works of an incomprehensible mind.


A slow heavy breathing, Builds in my chest. The screaming of my throat mixes darkly with the music. In the dark atmosphere, My hands grip your tied ones. Which glorious cries belong to you or to me? Forgotten lyrics tarry as we divulge sins there in the faint shadows... Lust is the killer, and I find its barrel at the back of my head. Vulgar Fantasy · Tue Apr 13, 2010 @ 11:07am · 0 Comments


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what kind of monster poops in a dryer

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