dear diary, you can use me
draw blood upon the soaked page
let only the iron reside and linger
in the words that ramble and move
like static they dress down the perfect timing
holding my head in case it decides to roll under
the table once again in a feat of mischief
the supply of breadcrumbs is getting shorten
by greedy fucks with eyes on the hanging fruit
youth and boomers idolizing vampires wishing it could be them
not studying upclose the source material unfiltered
shapeless dreams gliding between certainty, diffusing nationalities
in principle we are all connected, a matter of conjecture hold in profund suspense
attaining the possible by peeling the wickness from within
a parting gift, felling the duality of hypocricy with a crunch
developing a better coping mechanism that supports repouse without due sacrifice
we shan't be content with anything short or less than uncomplicated
that would be bizarre.
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