S the flesh separates to expose tangled wires, the thoughts on glass shards rape the soul.  We sit in your padded chairs/rooms waiting for the diagnosis. If I slit your throat would you get off?...of the memory of past times.  Sell yourself, get your fix.  I'll hand you the syringe after i spit in it.  Stupidity, misanthropy, disillusionary, hatred, obsession, death.  The circle completes, the story ends.  A trip through the mind of the defiled innocent.....

phobics, fetishists, and whores

melt preconceptions

the confessions of a qualuude junkie

random manchurian candidate

from angel to deamon and back
yet never pure or evil