Stabbed Slit Stitched
The Pressure Of Building A Future
time stops.
we're eye to eye
the breathing is neutral
we took it a bit further
one last touch.
through closed eyes i can see you are seeing what we are
what we meant
our graves already laid.
time starts.
blunt stars
fail to light the sky
i can't see
open my eyes?
to see you needing to know everything i said.
it's dead
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