O.O
I'll Wait For The Sun_1I’ll Wait for the SunI'll Wait For The Sun_1
Let me turn in my sleep for a moment as the dead may turn in their graves, whispering secrets childhood tenderly into your ear. Secrets, secrets, how I love to tell secrets that cause the dead to wither and writhe below the damp and dark earth. I love to hear their fingers knotting in the spider webs of lanky hair, listen to them move clumsily and angrily against the soft silk of their mahogany chests. Let me tell you of a dream I once had, let me tell you in my coarse and surreal voice. Let me speak of a dream that may cause the dead to turn in their grave. Turning, turning, will my whispering never cease?
Blah
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Discardable, disposable, Expendable
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My little blog [link]
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