Sunday, October 16, 2016

The feast

Cut me up
Serve me like a cake
A slice for everyone
Their final take

My scars and heartache
Form a dotted line
Cut along it
You're doing fine

Gather round
Time for the blessing
A feast of lies
Past time for confessing

If the taste in your mouth
Is bitter and sour
It's the tears you taste
From my final hours

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