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Tammy Cusick Aug 2019
Billowed down onto natures bust
a face full of dirt
a mouth full of maggots
corpsing coercion onto frantic plates
slopping up the juicy details
derailing off the tracks
into a new train of nature,
saving only what comes of value
yet, you don't save yourselves.

Lucrative hands slithering softly by
ready to steal your life with just a touch
how much are you worth?
Unfortunately, nothing.

— The End —