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Sorcha Hannigan May 2015
If I am going to die,
I am going to die victorious
nestled deep in the rotten ribcage of the fever that keeps me afloat.

Observed from a distance,
philanthropist mercenary,
In reality,
banal tragedy shared with countless generations.

Words leave long ****** marks wherever they fall,
Drenched in war paint
fit to **** the nonsense from your ***** heart,

Are you interested in a manufactured personality?

Nothing but the lies to live for,
I do not exist when I am not observed.

— The End —