Terminally your aborted ghost

Hung through a coat hanger

Terminally your aborted ghost
Hung from hooks of debauchery
In a habitual-like urge of rotting
In their chest cavities ensuing swollen uncontrollable lust
Flesh salivation
Covering their bodies with mucus
Honoring the dead with our flesh of painted sculpture art
Murder scenes
Severing their heads without a blade
Anatomically rotten chiseled features resembling static
Movies
Hours on blank reels and left for six months to rot
Serenade for silence
Shutter
Broom handle lovers strangled by handcuffed memories
Ulcerated hands held vital organs in pieces of deconstructed gifts
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