

An Ode To Oil WarsBrine lips float onAn Ode To Oil Wars
your mouth of salt, the bitter taste drenched with your rubied confidence can disintegrate your inner, and bloodthirsty child. Sugar on the black marble won't make it white, cry the epiphany of
denim-loaded tears that swing on the
flesh of dunes. Only our tongues can
taste the bitter roots of death as we feast on our brothers, our sisters. Your paraphenalia of sex-soaked youth with bitten thighs will make you weak against my rifle blows to
your bloody forehead. I a
--
get off your high horse and join the real world
Sincerely,
Once known as Shroomery
--
Member of: :icondapride: :iconjohnnydepp: :iconportland:
My stock: :iconstalkerstock:
:iconladyblack:
come back here and get high wit us
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