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Sep 2016
Tear the flesh from my bones
Til my soul is alone
And my body's a lake
Fed from red-running holes.

You are stagnant and cold
Like the moss on a stone
And a cesspool for sinners
Who you let come and go.
For a soldier dealing with a bitter divorce.
Jim Marchel
Written by
Jim Marchel  26/M/Back home where I belong
(26/M/Back home where I belong)   
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