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Voices
The voices are at it again...
telling me that
I have let so many lose,
never meaning to, or was it me at all?
Yes, now I see you make sure of it.
That expressive, disapproving
look from you, it screams
and screams into my brain,
that I've done it again, again, again.
I've made another person sorrowful
(me, you)
I'm just not perfect.
Can't you accept this?
Don't you see?
No, I guess not! There's
the disappointment so evident
in your speech and eyes.
Tell me now? Will you
leave too? God, I wish
you would, go ahead
and get it over with.
Make it quick. I'm already
bleeding from your tongue knife
and hateful razor eyes.
Starting to writhe now
in this common affliction
delivered by you
via me, a conduit for pain.
My haemorrhaging symphony,
it used to be so simple then,
I was so good at gushing blood,
surviving the stains.
Trade up, trade down,
whatever eased the damage done.
Anther band aid lover?
I can't do that any more,
my veins are collapsing.
Too much trouble found, anemic, blood
loss gives way to madness.
My heart can't abound.
Sssssh I'm sleeping now,
Drip - drip - drip - gone - dead...
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