Like strawberry jam,
Preserve the pain-
Flavor of
My cherished hate.
Gathered on the knife
And spread across
The bread of my skin,
The taste of my sin.
Perfectly preserved
In scar-
The flavors of
A wounded heart.
Preserve the pain-
Flavor of
My cherished hate.
Gathered on the knife
And spread across
The bread of my skin,
The taste of my sin.
Perfectly preserved
In scar-
The flavors of
A wounded heart.
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