1. 1 year ago 

   For Her

   what will be of them
   when they turn to stone?
   like my heart cracked and torn
   my pain will drain out my soul
   and feed it to the wolves
   our senses are wrong
   words aren’t songs
   only when they’re not torn and instead sung
   maybe i was born
   dead, not alive, bathed in scorn
   repeated verses in winter bore 

2. Notes

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