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In the dead of night, How comforting to feel a warm heat Dripping down my icy skin. I wonder why, As dark red runs in rivulets Down my arms and wrists, This is the moment I feel most alive.
If I jump let me sink. It’d be one hell of a photograph, I think. Or I’ll put a gun to my head and paint you a pretty picture in red. Which would you prefer? I’ll be the artist you always were.
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