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Feb 2016
Buried in crow feathers, the Devils in their eyes & he fed me
misanthropy.
I'm disconnected, as I stare into the blood scarlet sky.
Filled with black splatter paint brushed birds.
One by one dove down to peck at my flesh & take a piece of my wings.
One by one dove down to peck at my bones & take a piece of my limbs.
Wings made of corroding, sweet  memories, keep growing back out of misery to feed reality.
Jo Baez
Written by
Jo Baez  Los Angeles, Ca.
(Los Angeles, Ca.)   
1.1k
   Xavier and Lucinda Hikari
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