Contusion.

I am just another false impression.
Nothing extraordinary.
Nothing remarkable.
Someone you would never love.
Someone you would never trust.
Someone you would never want to be with.
And so
This torment is filled with candor.
So, lie to me.
Say you love me once again.
Say you need me one more time.
Lie to me.
Lie.
Such a beautiful lie.
Grief that is tainted with insanity.
Gripping death.
An unloved man.
That’s all that’s left of me, I guess.

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