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one september, pain
walked up to hurt and
said: i know you love
it when she inches
thru her jaded flesh
with a rusty blade.

you trophied, replied
hurt, when you grew
inside of her with
a bottle of aspirins.
licking her insides,
i mean that was neat.

to that pain said;
i didn't have to
lift a finger, she
was already a wreck
on the record. i
tasted her bitter.

on that note, she
awoke with a gun in
her hand. damn, i must
have fallen asleep hard.

and hurt whispered
to pain; i'll be
home when you are
done struggling,
just let me know.


whose turn?