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Oct 2013
Speaking to myself, scratching the split in my head.
Grinning at the killer dripping your face red.
Danced around the fire, blew your last line.
Just about the time I made her become mine.

He won't confess
I know you're thinking about it none of the less.
You're reading spirals and she's biting my neck.
Grab my hand, bend over, just to make you sick
Just so you know,

I'm staring at the video, turn it off, take above I'll **** from below.
Singing backwards riddles gags your eyes glossy red.
Whispering eyes aligning while you lay on my bed.
Forced like rusty metal just to cause your shift.
The warm sweat skin you share, the pain is a gift.

Lets try something else,
Let's try something new,
Buy the *** that sells,
homicide while inside you.
Jonathan Wood
Written by
Jonathan Wood  33/M/Home?
(33/M/Home?)   
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