Venusinfur's profile

I choose to not leave this life to escape inborn illness. I choose not to leave to escape the ones I have caught along the way. I choose not to leave to escape the ones I have yet to catch. If I choose to go it will be an escape from immunity. The dissease you know as the mundane. The pain that dies under your skin while trying to infect you. This is what makes me want to pack my bags into that hearse. I don't know if I think things through enough to be a liar. I'm a liar. I'm a liar. I'm a l...

Flies with spit sans wings Cool is the rage but it inspires less pity Than what a giant male mosquito brings Who knows why he thirsts like he’s expecting Maybe no one would listen For every ear given There is a million earfuls worth of criticism And the reason for his vampirism Is all due to confusion over the gender god had given him eager to pounce tipin' and a tumblin' a love letter in a forty ounce with a carved out bottom sitting betwixt the estrous a hellish anestrum expression through ...

The spir-it of the age is a sto-len gen-er-a-tion run-ning a-gainst the shad-ows of the rab-bit proof fenc-es the on-ly thing I’m feel-ing Is eve-ry-thing in-hu-man Because you Bred the self to ex-tinc-tion Because I Hot wired the drives ig-ni-tion Because he Ob-scured the ob-ject from vi-sion Because she Threw E-go in-to a fish bowl and fed it to o-bliv-i-on The spir-it of the age is a sto-len gen-er-a-tion run-ning a-gainst the shad-ows of the rab-bit proof fenc-es

I am sitting here writing as I am. I am writing... afraid to break from the pull. Gravity... a need to permutate. All of my errors in life and verse intact. I am here. One thirty one am... Seasonal Affective Disorder is all in my mind. Anointed ghost mushroom god metabolize my brain. Light. Kill melatonin. Restore my libido. Take me out of this cave. Bring me songs of territory and courtship. Good isn't form. Its the light that shines through... Everyone with fingers is a hack. I am not stone...

Three Sheets to the Wind Now the wind-mills tilt on-ly at my will dance all and sun-dry Three Sheets to the Wind Now the wind-mills tilt We is one o-ver the eight let black shuck see the rab-bit 'cus my vi-sion a-in’t straight on-ly sane out of hab-it but I’d be so vir-tu-ous if I had known how to wait saw some-thing aw-ful the worlds true col-or it left me tap-ping my shoes to-geth-er Just to bring it back back to se-pi-a I wish I was met-al A brass at-las re-sting on four, re-sting on nine,...