Ritual
On both sides of drunk
and on both sides of sober,
both sides of the truth
and both sides a lie
lie the two of us.
You own the license to my pain,
I hold the leasehold to your wounds,
we hunger for the ritual
embedded in our souls,
contusions that won't heal.
We can't breathe
but what we're bleeding,
leeching out the worst
of how we feel.
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