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Victim Soup.

by PoetRy

Every time I boil water my mind bubbles elsewhere hotter hating those long dead half men who braided you painful patterns caulked you into their weedy concrete buried you in their cheeks to hide their untimely clenching and us younger uncles pure and weak left with nothing else but to sigh and scorch pots.
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Written by
PoetRy
34 / I'm right here.
For You?
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Written by
PoetRy
34 / I'm right here.
Published
Jun 7, 2023
Time
1m
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