Abyssmally aware of how lonely I've become, I beg and plead insanity to jury, judge, and mom Hoping that incarceration with people of my kind might give me sense of right amense and friendship, too, might find The gun I shot, disposed at sea, her body buried deep All while Dad was with that whore and thought we were asleep So, as I'm dragged, down corridors screaming out my lungs kicking at imagined foes monitored by Jung's I sure as hell ‘ll be thinking to myself as if other’d ever do(!)...
Hugi notar vefkökur til að bæta notendaupplifun á vefsíðunni og greina umferð um hana.
Einnig hefur Hugi uppfært persónuverndarstefnu sína. Skoðaðu stefnuna hér..
