the scores are in,in this matter
we settle fights between a battle of plugs
our heads zipped tight in carbon boxes
eyes could puncture the lead linings...
diversities in this house...
what was it about?
the fate of someone...
is a faith broken to another...
drive the car towards the thin glass door
aesthetic broken pieces fall,while the hand holds the wheel
see it bleed,there is no need,for a cure
soak it in the vase with stagnant water...
shoulders hang...
clothesline of the damned?
the splintered body slammed...
in the telephone wire...
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