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I’ve crowned The Mighty Never in my guts, For if and when are where I’ve always been— To hang the Hows and crucify the Whats; An oath I’ll take to ev’ry grave of skin. The idlest illness in any patient; The longest cry returning from the wind; The first cold scream in all of creation; The first buckled gene that split into sin— Why, oh why, did we breakdown so within? There are souls too beautiful for this Earth, And ev’ry god knows they do not belong— But I’ve been ghastly and wicked since birth And I’ll be here long after they’re all gone. If you are they, and then— I will drop by when…. I will say it— I promise. Again.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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