Freakazoid Skeleton…

RIPE:
 
Your eyes are all it takes. It’s over.
 
One blink manipulates. And colder.
 
I shouldn’t hesitate, but be bolder.
 
My mind still contemplates that it’s over.
 
Positions and inquiries, destined to fail.
 
The monster I’ve encouraged lives down this old trail.
 
The water is our poison, the bread is so stale.
 
We’ve died or we are dying, black as a raven’s tail. 

 

 

 
 
ARCH:
Call on me to do the things that make you sick inside.
Bend your back until you feel like you just have died.
Remember now. Out in the dark.
Come with me. As you arch.
 

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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