When I die,
be it tonight or many moons come,
let his eyes go red,
if he ever cared,
hold his wrists until they bleed,
tell him, them, if he ever breeds (again),
not a step,
nor even a breath in their chest,
above the ground,
in which I rest.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 1:35 PM UTC
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