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Your sick.

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I want to drop your sick away.
I want to wipe you away with the grease, the grit, the grunge
You are the butt, the bottle, the rubber
I want to scrape you away like old paint.
But all I can do is add a fresh layer to it all and try to cover you over.

Get down! Get buried!
Let me cover over the sickly green vomit that's left!

I don’t want you.
I can’t have you!

You’re like oil on my skin
You’re like an inkblot in my heart.
And I want to drop your sick away.





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