Submissions by Swords

Icannot inhale.I cannot exhale.Evan my thoughts are a plastic bag for my child like mind to suffocate in.Just watch your soaps ill be fine...

My mind walks home...A frail shell like host the underdog in a plethora of tortoise and hare insinuations.Curiously pushed along,glued to lust,his weelchair...

Eyes shift...
Mute.

Guided by bells. 1 for yes and 2 for no. Death? his question and......
DING!

My ritual.
My immortal affection.
Seperate from life itself.
Once gold as sacrifice has become a figurine...an idol.
words of praise most ornatley engraved corroded from hands seeking healing dragged across a once already marred surface.
Bowing.
Worshipping.
Entangled inher occult like trance.
Encircled in candles my Godess answers no prayer short of desire.A fine hammock of flesh.A frenzied beast transmogrified to a wounded deer limping before colapse...
Panting...
A healing salve for an open wound.A dying religion from its conception.A born heresy....