omicron

there's blood in the bugs you stomp, underground they still walk, stay away, it seems my purity falls short to your pride, i guess you can't understand when you've never lived outside, i object for the objected, self educated, walking weapons, we are all a mess of subjectivity, don't ever put a price on me, i fantisize like child to prize, daydreamer's disease till i die, fuck you all, take those liquored letters and burn them with your nerves, fuck yourself and tell me if it hurts