Thursday, March 9, 2023

Shaping the lip into pyramid

 




cursing them

beautiful scroundels

God is not fair

Sometimes

I feel like that

And it is more painful this way

I want that

The bangsat are ugly

And the good are angelic



The maid pondering the tips of the smile

Shaping the lip into pyramid




The mind is not calm yet

Just let them be

Just let it be

Thunder for their life

Storm for their heart

Wind blowing carrying the sharpened dust

Piercing their pores

Widening their wound

Blood flowing river

Red is whole

Shine in the dim of sum

Bounce to the bottom of the alley

Where all claws staggering the nails

Sinister the glow


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