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The Love Massacre
My weeping heart aches for the return of my pulsing, spirit which dances away.
With each second wasted, searching for my true loves steed.
The strums that string my hair behind my deaf ear,
A melody plays.
Whipping his sword in my direction,
Slaying me with his words.
One last goodbye is all I’ve ever dreamed.
Please I beg, don’t leave my physical being on the damp cemented street. I lie there with no pulse, no beating heart.
I beg not to leave me in a puddle of massacre in which you left.
But if you must, kill me with kisses.
Your lips drenched in arsenic pressed against my wet skin.
Medusas touch is stoning,
but light in physical embrace.
Leaving no mark but one.
The poison drenched lips that drank the spirit in which I lie without.
Killing me with your love,
I’m astray.
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