- a running transcript of half  cooked thoughts, still pink and fleshy

under fork bite.

Metallic taste, and that’s why I don't eat meat - no stomach for blood, metaphorically or literally. Yeah, I know sorry this is how my brain works, and I still don't understand the correct use of proper punctuation. Teeth locked bars, lips parted in hyperbolic twist, awkward face smile, and a semi-ironic double thumbs up baby.