Smell it

5 Dec

I went to hell yesterday.
There were two dogs without ears sitting.
By a lake of broken plates and glass.
They said whore tit as he walked by.
One pulled out a stick that was polished to the wood.
And said watch and stabbed himself laughing.
I thought it was somewhat funny.
After the rain, there were no more souls.
To tie up himself to so he went sailing by the cracked pond.
And fell into the Devil asking if it was okay.
To be with words or should he be without.
A dirty film started to cover and smother the modest.
Piece of pitch-black sky the boy was breathing.
And sucking like smoke.
When tar runs over your skin and ever so softly.
Suffocates your whole body hardening and leaving.
You, a crying helpless statue.
That is alive and fighting inside.
And not a soul can tell except for those who can smell it.

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