throttled with a hatefuck
driving graveyard in a junkyard truck
buried in armor stained in friendship
better left as molten slag
from the twisted heat smoulder
of a shared life dressed in drag.

if anyone asked, we'd bite
that feeding hand, hurt and bleeding
amputees weighed in matrimony
what remains to make it right.

you've been interred in a bingo drum:
limping by on auto-dialers a...

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