My Official Causes of Death, in Nursed Rhyme


At 4:00am on Sunday Morning, Reality cruelly, despicably, and unfairly came rushing in, destroying hope, destroying belief, but ultimately ushering in relief…

It’s 11:48 and I didn’t succumb to hate. I hope this date (12/9/22) portends of a spate of better and more encouraging fate, of better real-live-dates, of no more constant wait. I’ve become to weak to survive even half a week. But no one gives a shuttered peep nor ever makes a tiny squeak.

So what will happen to Miss Never Go Sleep and Little Always Go Sleep? I don’t know! Ask the giant Creep who stole all OUR peace and never returned a piece of it to her OR me!

No, HE should NEVER sleep or EVER GET TO sleep for what he did to innocent

Little Bo Peep from your Nursery Rhymes…

Don’t know if she was CURSED by rhyme (for we’d have much in uncommon, too).

But we don’t make many speaks,

So don’t get no rest nor sleep.

Such is the story of Sleepy, Drained, Emotionally Torn and Ravaged, Weak but still Savage

Little Bo Peep…

And the Villanous wolf or lupine

Who stole her rest from her, me, my mother, and my

Canine,

The only one beside me as I tried to drift off into…

Eternal Sleep… 💤💤💤💤💤

Yet the hound’s barking sounds still served to just awoke me!

“Thanks for Nothing, Lucifer!” (I’ve changed his name for the Coward’s Game)

Of not allowing me to get some

FUCKING R&R So I won’t HAVE to sleep!!

P.S. I never had a suicidal urge before but that’s because I let a Giant Bore through my door 7 months ago or so before. Oh, how I’ve become torn! Oh! How I’ve become worn! Down to my core, here on Death’s Floor, Here at Death’s Door! Blame the GIANT FUCKING BORE!! I was just an awaiting whore, but he never came before and he never came again. So you can blame MY end on HIM in the final END, which encroaches more and more!

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