Harvesting of the innocent.
Destroy of face and time.
Rocky as the test subject
Of what you’ll do to mine.
Now that my complexion
is a little cleared I find
Looking in the mirror
At my rocky half smile of your unkind.
I can’t seem to want a dime.
I don’t want life.
I don’t want death.
I can’t figure out
What I’ve done for this mess.
I won’t leave home.
Six? Four? Eight? More years all alone?
I will never understand
How I held your hand.
And pushed back for you.
And wanted you too.
R
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