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The sun between my eyes are followed by the sweating decay of the bone marrow. Sticking, dripping, flowing, and reckoning my flesh in my mind.
The endless days of piledging aftermath, resides under the pressure of my ill nature of abuse. Forcing my insides and thoughts to fall apart.
Sabotosh and cataclysim, a bursts of hot boil and fluids across many scars. The demanding agony of the cycle in which, the revolving door of the voice I had forgotton.
