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Jun 2014
A ****** serenade to show me all your witches.
The lie that bites my eye and pulls apart the stitches.
Shes like a ****** gun half cocked on a loaded nun.
A feral infant left the instant she could see the sun.

While god herself grins in the face of my stability.
Woke up alone crying "where the hells Felicity?"
I'm just a fender-****** pretender makin the same mistakes.
Her music shakes and rattles snakes right between my legs.

We filled the mind so bloated as we floated feelin omnipotent.
The silent rhyme that stopped time and left the world corroded.
I had to cough and shake it off before we qualify to multiply.
Traded a moth for sloth but got caught by a butterfly.

Her heart beating, got me feeding and it stops the bleeding.
Deep throated, dually-noted as I start believing.
Jonathan Wood
Written by
Jonathan Wood  33/M/Home?
(33/M/Home?)   
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