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Category: Writing and Poetry

dude google docs poetry is like um


The lacerations write themselves so you lick the wounds like they’ll heal faster.

Is it the self imposed intimacy that calls you?

A priest’s confession with the shame and pride within yourself.

They touch- tongue to scar.

You will linger and

you will cry and

you will bury your head onto a shoulder attached to no torso

but your own. 


Nothing's sadder than being your own bastard.



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