Wounded, bleeding poisoned piss and pus
never quite thick enough to form a scab
tooth and nail at least might try to scrape—
she keeps from you the part of her that’s us,
hiding in the heart you thought to stab,
howling out the dream you thought to shape.

You thought yourself better? The best one died
shown less honor than you hope to grab.
Gods and ghosts will hang around to gape
as you burn on the fury of your own pride,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀never to escape.



by dean and maggie,
incorporating comments made by sara


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