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Ninth Life



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Ninth Life

Ru-486

Preferring confusion to clarity
A thoroughly poisoned sanity
Blame falls on the layer of the claim
Composer of an ideal
That could never be sustained
But my chest still knots and my stomach sinks
Every time I hear your name
The consummation of one's romantic inclination
Is another's blunder
In those beds, conceived was pure infatuation
Only to be bled the fuck out again
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I should have known that it would like this
Everything I touch just turns to shit
Should have never let you inside my mind
Knew you wouldn't like what you would find
Deterioration of communication
An incomprehensible internal loathing
Accompanied by crippling realization
Our New Year's relief was a wolf in sheeps' clothing
But I know it's best for you to never see me again