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Cold Dish Reverie.

Fist to face,
white knuckles bursting the skin,
splatter trail
of blood upon the white wall.

Bullets?
They lack intimacy.

I could brandish the blade,
cut your throat,
but forget it,
that’s far too compassionate.

That would end it all,
but you,
you’ve earned suffering
and no worry,
you shall be duly compensated.

Pain you made them feel,
oppression,
innocence I watched you steal:
return to sender.

All I can’t remember.

Buried in me,
you puppeteer fuck.
I’ll cut all these strings
binding me
to this stage of ceaseless suffering.
I will break down this wall,
bear the heat,
not on my knees,
standing, don’t even
care if I fall.

No longer afraid,
no more hiding in the shade.

Sun bathing my all.

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