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i hate you people
I cut my legs
By winter wrath and goodness-nobody notices the gashes!
And if they do,
I tell them the dog did it?
I want them to Know (they must smell wounds like blood hounds)
But I'm scared to say
I'm a hollow tree pouring
MDMA down her throat
Sometimes I sleep for many years
But only a night has passed and I just have to
Run my fingers over the cuts and oh!
It just feels like heat
Warming my palms like tiny Virgin Islands
Now I'm lying on the floor dizzy
And spinning
I overdose in my
Imagination.
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