#0167. The Devils live under our feet and under our terrible cellars. I have broken down walls to find them. Pickax in hand. Jackhammer rabbit heart. Jackhammer collision retribution. The debris is stumbling. I am the debris. Shattered bits. Glorified activity. Procedural release. The Devils are the first born, I suppose. I worried about disbelief and the loss of my Angels. Now I am afraid of who I have turned away at the cellar door.
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