

snowdrifts on dead .collabsaturdays are like nightmares that people forgot to recycle, and have come back to haunt the broken hearted and the unsurgically altered. your eyeliner is thicker than my collarbone, and your lies are more prevalent than the nausea i face when i look into your eyes.snowdrifts on dead .collab
you are a wave of roiling insides, pungent like winter-bitten metal and narcotics. the nocturnal deaths you've sewn into your sleeves are falling off in flakes, and it's snowing something heavy. it is night, it is dark, and i am cold.
colder than the hands &nbs
Ships
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looking for a spark of inspiration, get Lit *VisualLit
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Be inspired: *simplypoetry and *simplyprose.
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Hey, I can't think of any witty comments, but It'd be cool if you read and left some feedback/constructive criticism for me
[link]
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If I'm not writing, I'm just sitting here changing oxygen into carbon dioxide. Like a baby. A little shit and piss factory, maybe one day a man. Be a man today, motherfucker.
all of your photographs of the sky are really beautiful.
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My name is Bob Barker, of Clan Barker, and I cannot die.
Proud member of *Apophysis!
Devout disciple of the ~Hellraiser-fans club.
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"Final Draft = Rough Draft - 20%" - Stephen King
Remember: Make Every Word Count!
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mycutelobster.co.uk
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