Vitriol by Nik Moreno I need a life where the only things coming from my mouth are clouds soft and free of thunder and lightning. Where my words are orchestras meeting your ears like I’ve wanted them to all along. Most days this mouth has a mind of its own. I watch in horror as it spits its vitriol at you. Cut my tongue out and feed it to the wolves. It was never good for anything anyways.
Hooligan Mag Issue #16
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