See it in the stillness of my eyes and feel it from the look of my cold gaze, I couldn’t face to see you like I did back in july. Now I am the bastard son, born from liars dedicated to no one, I am the bastard, I’ve made my bed and I’ll be sure to sleep in it. Spit in the face of it and tell it to fear you. Keep drying all these lakes that we’ve basked in, fill the void with an ocean to drown in. This isn’t a sin that you can just wash your hands of. Keep treading with the weight of the world, feel your knees jar as your feet touch the dirt. The strings that hold you are just letting you down. Kept close: beloved and I never said that I was cool with this. You stick like a lump in throat, kept on the inside and just growing from there. I’ll never bury my head in the sand that you spilled and I’ll never lay it there.
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