
Today, I saw day, Turn to night. I saw blood, From my sister’s vagina, Streaming down her… Her precious thighs. I saw Father, With a rod in hand, He had struck Mother twice and, Was going for the third. I saw Brother, He lay still—heart stopped Six shiny golden objects pumped into his body. Blood […]
from Brittle Paper http://ift.tt/2iJl2RH
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