The Formula

Knowledge of the wicked.

Knowing myself enough to kick it. Bond with hard times. Makes me unbreakable as the lie I believe. Shattering dreams until the nightmare comes easy. Like virgins flushing to remain clean-thoughts pounding more pain than a hyman breaking and anal raping.

Pleasured when receiving pain wraps you in a blanket of trauma you can’t escape. Throw it away and a piece of you escapes. Burn it and watch your freedom dance away, laughing and pointing, watching you still, grounded without escape.