My mouth tastes of rotting copper. You may think that this is a green taste, but you would be wrong; it is the yellowing purple of a blossomed bruise, deep and compelling. It refuses to be forgotten.
"she got it in her"
the spirit is weak. woe be the spirit. the body is weaker still. Siërra R
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ask me about horses
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dreamwidth
botflymother.dreamwidth.org/website
botflymother.neocities.org/bandcamp
botflymother.bandcamp.com/soundcloud
soundcloud.com/botflymothersomewhere on website league
username will be botflymother
really if you wanna find me just look for botfly mother
gonna keep that name around for a good while
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