Video de A 2 Minute Lecture On The Finer Points Of Instability

No flowers for you till you put the knife away. Your prescence is smiling with icy veins, seizuring. These are the lacerations, like falling leaves and sour notes of infatuation, compiling the sovereign erosion of my naked ears in your tranquility. A coffin for me to decay in, a sellable cremation. You're the killer, my little star, tell me how