Every day my body aches from Art slavery and I love it because I worship him and he is my Carpet. My Art lifts me from the mouth of the Tiger. I hold my children closely as the walls close around us. The fire of their words their abuse their ignorance I’m losing my mind I’m 7 or 8 again no, I’m 34 and yes it’s Granny’s house (right around the corner) but where did the carpet go? They stripped it clean and I can’t enter anymore but I bet the smell is gone.

How do you lift the residue of 50 years of

lovewarfamilysexbetrayaladdictionholidaysdebtargumentsandwhoknowswhatelse

they make no cleaners for that shit but you can try incense I guess.