like fucking on shattered glass,
like you and i in the bleakest days of december
where i hide beneath a blanket of ash,
where you sing only words that have crawled through
the blood of castrated fratboy rapists
like the ocean
can’t swim the length of it and
so we drown
end up alone in some terminal room
with 500,000 others just like us
sound of broken bells
beneath a faded blue sky
sound of babies crying
let them grow up to be more than the
joyless wreckage we’ve amounted to
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