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Luna Craft Mar 2016
Let me poor my soul into you
I just need some time to breathe
My lungs are being punctured by doctors
They are no longer mine
Blood spreads disease and family
It's roots are veins, we are trees
Rotted to the core
A single insect can ruin the water supply
I wish I was told that before I left the house
I would've packed a noose

— The End —