My bones are burning like hell fire… My heart is calling and crying that you throw out some bucket of sympathy water… Ooh, so sweet…. No… So hot… I can’t resist but submit the feelings of crushing fingers, pinned against the wall while hot sweat drop to my toes….
Today I am finished, getting weak… May be weaker by this burning steam of sympathy water, draining all my strength through my nerves, peeling off the healing scars and warbling down the ripen boils. It would be better to remain in the burning fire, than weaken with the steam.
And when is today? It’s not a Friday, it’s not a Saturday, or a Wednesday. Perhaps tomorrow is a Monday, and work will be looking at me like cappuccino coffee. It will be hard to work on it because I will have memories of the smoke. My legs are not stretching any…
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