If I were to give myself to the steel
You probably wouldn't notice at all
If you did, it would just be an afterthought
A stuck thorn you use to gain sympathy
Then promptly pull out when satisfied
My depression is like the vine it came from
It grows until it strangles the child watering it
Then hangs his body high where no one can see
Except for the dying angels and vultures
Time Ended
1 day ago
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