I'm ready to work. Feelin' it writhe beneath my skin; curling around
my bones; hissing within my mind.

Something wicked.
Something dismal.
Something evil and haunting and hallucinatory.

Let's feed them fog coated death and lurking misery.

I want the head of reason on a platter, executed by mystery and judged
by confusion.

Help me liberate, and whatever you do: don't stop.

Only you can get me there.

[ more ]


  • 03.25.04

what's new:

  • new theme

all writing (unless otherwise noted)
1994 - 2004, Rebecca Black

? True to Myself #