Wednesday, 18 October 2017

Nothing Hurts Like The Day You Died, The Giant Wreck You Crashed Into My Fragile Pride

Jim Jim go away, "Have you thought about my cock today?" I just want to talk about real things, not your STD infected ding-a-ling. Every second of every day you pulled me and then you pushed me away, gave me drugs to treat my depressed malaise, then talked behind my back about how I was permanently dazed. Well I'll show you my true love ills, like Juliet I'll poison myself with your prescription pills, though I'll not wake, forever I'll slumber, and as I die you will call my number. We'll talk about the fact I'm dying, the fact that you were always lying, we'll talk about how desperately I loved, whilst you, free, like a loosened dove, fly off and infect again, like a plague cursed upon women.

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