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Spike Swallower

The walls seem
To match
The colour of
What si flowing
From your chest
And running wild

A vibrant soul
Whose only goal
Is to twitch and die
A wretched spoil
Writhing in
Its own waste

I waited so long for you
As you waited here for me
Then I welcomed you with
A closed, spiked glove

Poison in your veins
The taste of metal on your tongue
The guilt of wronging
A feeling missing in your heart

Swallow me...

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