indignance,
viciousness,
my vulgar apathetic
morality.
how long has it taken to build this
haven?
this safe place i have built
for myself, where the apirition
of a long since dead heart,
can forever lay siege to my
soul.
my penance.
the bull who gets the matador,
the sting of the razor cut,
shaving,
the icy rythyms of a whore
practicing her trade,
to me these things were
the best
now sheding skin to start
a life,
i don't understand
