a poem

name:confussion
one for seven and six for three, there is no heaven and nothings free.

black twist with a jello shooter, satanic mist with a fat hooter.

beautiful, horrific and the moon, six feet under and half past noon.

scar tissue with an open wound, diluated eyes with a swallon woumb.

snap, crackle, and a pop, should of took my heart back on the spot.
crackled laugh with a slit throat, blood red river with a cold dead grip.

should have. Not should of.

Sorry, I couldn’t help it… it stands out like a beacon. :X

bump