4am scribbles are where I leave you hidden
because our demons needed distance
the beautiful disaster
the ebb and flow
the tide that takes us both
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The face that reverberates in the dark
the maleficent muse, that never amends
try to write you out of my blood
follow you in again
a rabbit hole of playing pretend
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But I’m bound to you, bound to this
bound to the gluttony of punishment
yet here we are now
the minimums of nice
a Freudian slip, left with only remnants
We have to talk about publishing a book of prose and poetry.
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Hopefully one day
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