The abuse of true
True use of screws
Twist the fabric's wounds
Land on top of me
My bodily des-tiny
Beyond physical visi-bility
Hit me silently slow
Not hard that hoe
Your visceral low steady blow
The dirt that is auto-human
My selfish stupidity infusion
Turning on me with intent illusion
Reversing it all to no pain
Organic entropy to handicap cain
Rotting souls and wooden rain
Reborn late this love is mine
Hours dying in linear time
Decaying shine is your crime
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