Conflicted in lust i not be. Lost in the nothingness of the abyssal sea of lack there of. Painfully stricken to lustiness sinfulness. Sorrow in my heart i miss that dear boy. Youthless and passing fancy. A sorrow like not other. The flesh willing the soul is lacking in it desires. Unknown to other the suicidal fetish of one heart, smashed with doubt and saltpeter. Sound queer and lame i just can't get a reaction form the small brain. He dead and not miss. He's a fuck up and get the master in trouble. Now the meds have wearied off i can say with all confidence... Nah i good.
~ A bored Joe~