Tuesday, March 23, 2021


You are the mirror of my worst

Show me what I look like, to your face

But once we face each other

I can’t fight you, for you

You’ll need to slice knuckles on glass to get to me

And prove that dead men do bleed after all

Once there is blood

You’ll bleed the most

If you refuse to heal

If you retreat into solitariness with your angst and shame

Instead of meeting together in our tears

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