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perfect victim - anureet watta

May you never recover from the ways I ruin you,

and your head, always, stay ablaze from this harsh fairytale.

art by caitlin peck

Pardon me,

I hope to kill you, so ferociously,

you return as a ghost,

And we always touch on the cusp of unfinished business.

And there -

Let me hold you down like a promise.

Let me tell you about the revv of an engine, on its way to hell,

the violent flickering of a pyre trying to ash a soul.

Here, I let you borrow my ribs,

here, you run your hand over my veins, ask me, about my apparent thirst.

I swallow my tongue, I sharpen my knife

I fall for you and get hacked into pieces.


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