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Nov 2013
Lord my soul has been dismantled, pandering out of my rib cage it's looking for a new breeding ground. My face is neutral but my body is in a panic. The food for my thoughts have been rotten for days and it's hungry again. I'm not a virus, I'm not infected. Over and over it's under my skin. I can't break this underlying addiction. I want to be what you drown and manifest in. Let me be your overdosed addiction. My ****** organs slowly turn when our faces use a language it only understands. I can't control it's ticks.  Let's destroy ourselves and rebel in the madness. Such perfection me and you losing control.  Get a little closer let yourself unfold. My brains faucet is leaking.
Marco Batista
Written by
Marco Batista
537
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