Bloodletting
i am not a Poet
merely a dead remnant
trying to find the right order
of self inflicted wounds
that will bleed out
this misery
this envy
this emptiness
from this poor bloated corpse
and bring you back to me...
“I have lost my dewdrops!” Cries the flower to the morning sky that has just lost all its stars... All bleeding stops eventually. I am but a collection of particles, atoms that chose to suffer in unison.
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