Bleed out.
Cartoid artery?
More like a shock to the heart.
Fuck up excuses taste more damage than an
oiled up gun.
Cock it, pull the trigger.
Friends?
Never.
Breathe in.
Take stock again.
Dresden ruins of my life
firebombed to the ground.
But,
I'm alive.
I can clean up myself.
I can lick my own wounds.













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