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I'm drawN to HeR like a moth to a Flame the moth dIes. the Flame?


we are, as we can be one while we live finding keys to free us from our ill formed & broken slum minds torn away by choking lungs quiet the loudness of horror guns our feelings were in ashes once hearts melted to a bloody cunt die there's nothing else left to want though wondering that fortune there won't be peace only portion would that be life whored or cautioned be adored again to give abortion no fights without conflict to re enforce them reason can't save our causes, just pause them to you I remain flawed then cry your tears now so I watch you horde them.


Suicide Moth  

Suicide Poetry

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