Named Murder. I learned of an old western gun deception, &
HARRY POTTER FANFIC LOLSince he turns 17 and Aunt Petunia's protection will be useless, he is sent to live in Sirius's old house, surrounded by the remaining members of the OOTP. His friends have to join him, since they'd be easy targets for Death Eaters.One day, out of the desire to escape reality, he and Ginny drink too much butterbeer. Harry forgets to use a rubber, and lo and behold, a baby pops out 9 months later at the end of the book. But before the baby, Harry goes on the journey to find the Horcruxes. In this adventure he is lured to the power of the Dark Side. When Ginny learns he has gone to Hogwarts and killed First Years she confronts him by saying, "I don't know who you are, anymore." Convinced that Ron has turned her against him, he raises his wand to her throat and starts choking her. Ron saves the day by heroically jumping off a broomstick and intervening. He wins the duel and leaves Harry horribly deformed.
Sadistic KicksGazing eyes on the wreckCaused by:A post-sex cigarette,(glassy)screamingpremature wrinkles from yourmouth,pouting shut,(legs wide)turn the Closed sign overandI am an Electrical impulseclimbing upyour anxiety system. Badabing, Baby.We've just hit the Brain Stem.Sit (Spot)watchingwashing machinery,mother.I am a Jarred Butterfly,haunting the Laundry Roomin your bowels,defecating on the decorof your Clockwork organsand dreams of me.Hydrolysis in progress.Stimulate me away.Organic wiresWith the taste ofTaurineAre inexplicably dangerous.So take heed:I can be your heroin(e)But I cannot be your cure.So please,disassemble my spineAnd the tangible "(Pleas)e"scraped off my dreamsof You.
ChokeI trace your sunken face,Searching for an unfeasible wayTo limbo between toleranceAnd the clean tinkeringOf this moral mind dance.And while it's hard to sayHow the grayscale weatheringOf your lips mute the colorsThat grace today,I catch sight of a curled pageAnd the smell of spring ink above,Whispering of a new ageThat you promise we will see.You say smokersMake the best writersAnd complicit, I agree.But where, I say,Will this web we weave be,When your lungs fail you,And your loveFails me.
Thanks for the add!
::stalks off!::