Dead Twins

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Whip whip whip

The family says I am too skinny when my mind is against the wall

No drips, just sauce for the joy of the internet:

Violence, aggression

Some sort of social collective

Lending me its ears

I am want to be in haven for purport of

Stickiness

Last demise

I fell three stories

Swooped in, savior so calm

So downtown is pretty after all

Just got to be dying to love it

The inanity of the written word and the progressive death of English

Are the soul and kindred kindle of people lusting for romanticism

An oxymoron of sorts

That death should be communicable is all but ridiculous

Atrocity after atrocity, I see how phrases are combined

Not a one seems to invent

No probability of denial

No soul in the restroom’s kitchen

Just fecal barf on the page

The authors cherish their efforts

They do as they would were they alone

Infatuated, the stars in the people’s eyes

Inane, once again, but true

So it hits, block; it hits

Some craven morsels time their ignition

To take others down

Town is still my favorite one

Until it develops

And then it’s professorial

So hug the word

Shame on you two

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