the judgement of the liar-boy

the innner, the outside window look down dropped out, and bombs screeched past our ears and enveloped our souls in their neverending whine. nighttime siloliquist, respect the dinner wine. slurped until the care-not takes over and passion climax. gnostic until tragedy, ready until the happening. stained glass drips with angel wrist-slit blood and mary's menstration. a spot of filth on the cloak of pure. kneel. commoner exchange memories for a ravenous band of children starved for the truth. writhing from pleasure, bound and bloodvessels popped stinging the surface skin. recovery mode takes on the sponge rung out in the infant's bathtub. soapy death. quiet fucking. lavender sleep, purely coincidental considering the chapter hadn't been completed. more fun by yourself, masturbating your warpped mind to flashbacks of your guilt. the beachhead is just a pile of rocks ground fine by the constant onslaught of moonpull tidal waves. the wives and goodbyes cannot save you, soul-less creature creep. ascend the staircase slow as not to disturb the judge. the gavel gets heavier as the air turns colder.