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Dust

What was it that I saw
when I looked into death?
’twas not a gaping maw,
so frigid, was its breath
a blackness from the void,
it came to laugh at me
with my life, it toyed
as it took from me three

I tried so hard to cry,
burdened with each breath
I’d rather just get high
off the smell of Death.

 

I have had a lot of bad shit happen in the past few months, so please excuse the extended absence. I have a few pieces that I have written in this time scattered around my apartment on various pieces of paper. I will try to find them and post them as I do. Hope all is well, you mutant fucks.

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