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sour

lies like black cherry pits ferment inside

minds fizz and pop like cheap champagne

 until the cork blows glass shatters hatred

spews forth in a tidal wave of putrefaction

your words are a high school massacre

your breath is a gun pressed against the temple

of a child before bubbles burst through blistered

skin and crimson life slides to the floor

◄ things i would say to you if i wasnt busy lying

naked ►

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