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I don't ache from your inflicted pain

this carousel we amble against
you sitting astride, me at the eye,
it turns its face to spue dark magma
and again the picture is where we die,
 
our lethal dose of pandering
the swathes of false sugar that won’t dissolve,
we are an image in the mind of a no one
empty photo frames littering a home,
 
a streetlights death to a flicker to a glow
my heart once knew that illusion well,
when magic was my love and my code
I fell for my own ego as I watched it swell,
in your eyes you tunnelled me a stare
all my fakery could not control or deceive,
our carousel at times may need oiling
But it gives me the strength to believe,

Autres oeuvres par Lowercasemmmmmm...



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