Thayer: Mad. Mad thoughts. Crazy, twisted, sinewy Mad obsession. You sicken me. You're so beautiful, love. I grind you into a fine, soft Powder and inhale you... And then lick you off of my fingers. You love, answer me. Your face brings me death every day... And every day I can't wait to die. Bury me now, love. Bury me now.
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