Walking With Demons
And attempting to stay dry.
Words.
Are there no ends to the tricks you can make words perform?
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Saturday, December 4, 2010
Highway.
I'm sorry love; I need the blood from under
skin, from deep within my veins. Tracing
highway lanes across my hips, watch the drips
falling, so damn red - brings memory along
like a song I can't get out of my head.
Love, sorry love - I'm addicted to blood
and ruin and true words I have heard.
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