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i am made of twine, tightly wrapped around gods fingers turning them blue (or blackening, for gold oxide/ gold ichor, coursing through her veins) i have not the words to worship nor the voice to cry just rope, fraying, pulling tight around both ceramic lungs please god let me breathe
his parables dipped in gold and LA sunshine i hoped this would subside but i digress and guess you like her more adorn me in shadow, torn together your "no"s laced in "forever"s maybe she's better maybe you said never remember the way you filled my mouth with THC watch me bleed as i lay lazy details hazy drive me crazy crave me the way you did in dark corners scorn upon your shoulders now you're bolder and you don't need this intoxicated smile built into your miles you're interdimensional, here i am beguiled reviled because my voice sounds like bubblegum sticky on your shoes lose me in blue again and even you only like me for my weed so i'll save some green for then Author's note: this is another spoken-word style thing that i wrote. It's much more stream-of-consciousness-y than the last thing i posted here so i'm sorry if it doesn't make any sense. I also don't know if i should add to it or not because i kinda like the way it cuts off here, but it's super short. Anyway if yall want to criticize the hell out of this i'm completely down; i'm always trying to improve my writing :)