Sore.
you are my fear. my state of panic. and you make my heart soar.
falling back on my spiral notebook with tattered corners
to confess my love to you. i spent my time alone as a forigner
to myself when my mind and heart were yours.
but whats this? i see freedom from my personal wars!
i was lost in your razzle and dazzle every time before
but now as i look in from the unstained glass
i see everything you have ever represented or stood for
has been thrown to the wind and i'm left with the vision of a whore.
not of the skin. but for what we see fit as fitting in
a consumer of sin moreso than even i have ever been before
a package for you my dear.
its your soul, thats why i've come to your door.
take the filth from your ear
in that silence, there is a new life in store
and let me just get one thing clear
you are my fear. my state of panic. and you make my heart sore.
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