Rancid Dreams

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In my scars,

I see the art-

Knowing that you were the artist:

And upon my blood, scattered on the floor-

I see your threat,

Knowing that you were the one who drew it out.


Oh lord! Isn't this so depressing,

That these nocturnal waves 

have been devoring my deeds.

As my love was prodigious- 

but yours was not:

As you cut through my throat with your words so sore.


Are you gonna make me fullfill all of your needs 

and then make me bleed in my rancid dreams?

Aquarelle with my blood 

on your foot so marvellously,

your footstepswerethe archives,

of my bloody dreams.


And in my scars,

I see the art-

Knowing that you were the artist,

and upon my blood scattered on the floor-

I see your threat,

Knowing that you were the one who drew it out.

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