3.30.25

So many times I've found myself wanting to rest my head upon his chest.  To curl into him and die.  Seeking comfort in someone who isn't there.  Phantom feelings and false prophets.  I am the missing strength.  Never promised. Always found.  But oh how often I crumble now. 

S (Archive)

Salutations! In view, a humble syntax servant cast surprisingly as both saint and sinner by the spine of Fate.  This superficies, no scant semblance of show, is a symbol of the sanity of man — now spent, suspended. However, this sanguine sojourning of a bygone strife stands spurred, and has sworn to surmount these sanctioned and savage scourges safeguarding suffering and securing the severely sharp and strident snafu of snobbery!  The only sentence is spite; a squabble held as security, not in vain, for the stock and sincerity of such shall one day substantiate the scrupulous and the satisfying. 


Surely, this superfluity of spoofy speech skews most strenuous, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you, and you may call me S.


#vforvendetta #sforsatire 

Comments

  1. Resisting the urge to memorize this and greet every new person I meet this way...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

8.21.24