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Monday, February 13

starts at night



everytime i empty myself

i feel my skin shrinking

my corpse of a body turns

a groggy grey

like that of a moon

except it lies deserted of that gentle coolness

a hellfire rises at every choking breath

father, i am rotten

how i am rotten!

the hounds have taken to my beady eyes

for dessert, the only sweet thing

may they see the light

may they see the light 

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