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Blood-drop
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Poetry I had a tiny little sore on my face
like a Norma Jean beauty mark.
It hurt and got infected.
One tiny sore that started to bleed
profusely, left a red streak
down my cheek.
It looked as if I were weeping blood.
Sick, sadistic me
thought it looked cool
like the paint marker stains
on my friend's
Cannae album.
