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Jul 2014
i just want to die.
the bullet pressing
against my head,
the pills at the tip of
my tongue, blades scratching
against my skin, tearing
inside of me apart.
in a second the silent pin drops
like the delicate dead body
against the window ledge
as he lands, the blood pools
and spills from all directions
and soon public tears dilute the
crimson blood creating a river.
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