Sunday, July 3, 2011

before

You'll see your blood on the broken stick.
The ignorance.
There are questions. They smash your brain.
Look at your bitten lip, look at your burned hair.
Feel your heart, for the last time.
They stop noticing the pain. Who, you ask. Well, everybody. They stop noticing your pain.

Fuck it, laugh in their faces. Even when you're dead.

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