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Oct 2013
I look forward to the night.
Nothing wrong, nothing real inside.

You look at me with grieving might.
WIth our blood on our bodies.

Together.

Both of our knives inside us.
Our love is tough.
Sweet lust and cuts.

Blood spills on pages of poem and love letters
To a different man.
That I once killed...
Written by
Casaria NightShade  Not tellin' you, stalker.
(Not tellin' you, stalker.)   
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