Flesh torn. The beast within. Imagination realised. I am not me. Greed is a terrible thing, reality is worse. This blood on the walls of my mind will drip to the floor of my being. Guilt is real, but so is money. Clear thoughts are not my strongest point, yet I do not regret that day, and how thoughts vibrated to truth. Imagination-wolf. Projection of need, onto the bed in the cottage. Wolf-teeth, like puppets on strings, as the deed is done. It was me. It was only me. I define myself with money. It is only me.
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Behind The Trouser Press
Anorak, A Scary Word For Coat (Edit)
Anorak, A Scary Word For Coat
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