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The flick of a wrist. The edge of bathroom counters. I can feel spiral staircases in my head and slides down my arms. Rivers and streams push through capillaries and veins. It hurts, you know? Slamming cabinets, metallic strings. I’m simply creating a symphony of littering dark reds and pulsing fatty caves, it’s true art. I’m an artist if nothing else.
Bookmarked by Lalismustdie
01 May 2026
