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May 2020
What's wrong with me?
Even the hounds won't bite.
The ones you fed me to.

And your fangs break my sticks
Dash me against the stone
To be a ****** carpet for your eyes.

A forest for your lies
Just another skull for your mantle.
Written by
Gustavo P  22/M/Chicago
(22/M/Chicago)   
481
 
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