There are mad pixies who confuse me as I stride lucidly through my dreams and drift sleepily through my days. Every cycle is flayed by the gravy injected through my eyes to gin-soak my brain. Occassionally, I bleed here.
Open vein and bleed, bleed over the musty folio.
There are mad pixies who confuse me as I stride lucidly through my dreams and drift sleepily through my days. Every cycle is flayed by the gravy injected through my eyes to gin-soak my brain. Occassionally, I bleed here.
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