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Bitter

Date Written: September 21, 2017
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I can't think of a way to tell her I want her dead

And then want to feast on her flesh

Where it lies in ribbons on the cold, wet Earth

All red and pink against the ashen dirt

Of the solemn, saturnine forest

After being torn off

By stray dogs.

So instead I say

ーYou're right!

It was rude of me not to thank you in person

For lending me the bike pumpー

Still cursing under my breath.

 

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