insperation
jems to my pebbles
taste like heavens mad at me
the bitter sweet sainity
what butterflys float on
what the ocean moves on
this illness chooses to only take so much of me
the bruises deepin and ripe
i crave the beating of my life
till the words of my hollow insides absorbs mass of guilt
guilty tears i survive on
this tasty treat my hands are fond of
 
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