you're no sociopath
you are a self-suffered trauma
dance in your dirt
my heart is bleeding on my shirt
tethered to my sleeve in the wind
you were my cardinal
the definition of red
and you carried on with your apathy
rubbing off on me
bullseyed my remaining trust
and threw poison darts
i can pass by the fevers of summer
snowglobing my love
but the quicksand that
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"in an award winning ventriloquism act."
"squeezing dry the freshly picked fruit
of a ripened ribcage."
i love it.
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