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Postcards from the Grave
from a blood filled coffin
i make my drowning cries
muffled by crimsoning wood
and this incision across my neck
as i breath in, just to cough back out
the toxins contained in my tainted veins
bloodletting and isolation proved fatal
this time
again
forevermore
youd think id think of something better after a decade of this
rinse and repeat
slice and bleed
excuse for life
