Stop The Wound From Growing Across Your Flesh


The few,

The many,

On winds of gruesome failures comes its curse,

A sweet tooth,

A bitter lie,

Something to remember,

Another thing to forget,

There is no forgiveness,

Your existence eternally scared from the first time you opened your eyes,

Fearing all that exists around you,

Destined to be but a footnote in a story that is not yours,

Or mine,

So cherish your moment,

Live like the world is ending,

And bleed your all into today,

For tomorrow,

Is not yours,

Or mine,

But theirs,

And there is so many of them,

And only the two of us,

Or is there just you?

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