I can taste the arsenic on my lips It s not as bitter as tears The screams awaken me from delusion Hollow tendrils of fear and contempt beckon closer on frail wings sewn together by veins and dignity I hear them scream at night when no one else is listening when no one else is close enough to hear Their hands are cold and rigid, coursing over my memories Blank faces I can taste the arsenic on my lips It s not as bitter as tears The screams awaken me from delusion Hollow tendrils of fear and contempt becko...
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