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Replying to a comment on:
Labor. (Free verse) by darby pyn
I bleed for attention. wear my heart on my sleeve. sweat through my
scars till the minute you leave. desperate for affection with no
prudent remorse. head on for the crash with no shift from the course.
beaten laid flat spread open for entry. divided by minutes that
feel like a century. deep in denial. permanent bliss. the wounds
in-between a fist from a kiss stay like regrets where nothing
is lost. repeat without conscience no matter the cost.
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