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Words travelling at mach 2, Armor piercing gifts to me,
Of no use to you.
While truth hurts, I wish these brass encased honesties could kill,
Get on with it, sponsor my next spill,
Life within death is purposeless, why need I breathe this next breath?
But to waste it on you.
Returning fire, a volley of red roses to meet your assault,
No match for metal, shredded petals,
Viciously rich perfumes and gunsmoke mesh,
Love losing one more battle against indifference,
ignorance,
silence...
Misery posing as happiness, you guessed it, emotion in descent,
By all means, blindly slide another cartridge into the ravenous breech,
Your hand in mine, a sunset, yet only one set of footprints on the beach.
Bitch. |
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