ofabattoirs:

<sub>when you speak there are INSECTS on your tongue; they crawl and twitch and flutter as you readjust the grip on that bowie in your lazy left hand. you aren’t supposed to be out this late (momma warned you about the sounds of the town and how they can infect you) but you don’t pay no attention because you’re BOLD. you’re one with the soil, anyway, a knight in the realm of cypress knees ….

                                                                                           PLEASE DON’T HURT ME, PLEASE !

                                             10:03 PM.
           ( abel decote ) what’s it like, being somethin’ that ain’t free?
           ( victim, unidentified ) please. please don’t hurt me.
           ( abel decote ) shhhhhhh. JUST BREATHE.</sub>