Shell of a woman.

My mothers ghosts. Thousands of men only paying for one thing. Thousands of thoughts none of them sane. If you sleep with the devil he's bound to fuck you. A daughter not brought up that way. A bad person, or modern witch burning at the stake. A surviver of bronchitis willing to spread her shell to feed her offspring. Government benefit unavailable they fuck the ones though the cracks, turned  her into an emotional vampire and sometimes a blithering mess. Stuck with such a long trap, filled to the brim with so, so many ghost time people. Peter rich lay dead in his home for three weeks. Keith had his thumb cut off. I guess if you choose the pain they haunt you again and again. Your shell has seen the obscene and never washed it clean. Your my living ghost the shell of the woman I once saw a glimpse of. If you bind your mind with bad men memories it's bound to crush you.