This fleshy index is my home
I live in your grooves and creeces
I see the world in motion, passing back and forth, exchanging brushes with your denim legs
I am an inconspicuous sensitive being
and the elements of life abuse me
I am not malicious, but I would kill you and not mind,
for i thrive off of decay.
You might think this a morbid existence
But you have not been apart of this holy apendage
The one that breeds love and violence.
I feel the height of what you feel
As do i see
I have tasted what you consume and I have touched the flesh you have grasped.
So my life may be short and full of pain
And i may decide to infect you with gangrene
But i will never admit an existence of morbidity
Mostly because i cannot
For i am the cut that lies on your finger.
I apologize for the many spelling errors you will find scattered regularly about my blog. Feel free to let it reflect on my intelligence :D Enjoy.
