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"behind bars" by Ti

i am three and a half tender years
you are not
i am in my cot
you are not
i am innocent
little did i know
you were not

i am of many years
you are many more
i can not breathe deeply
your seething
i can not focus
your mucus
i can not touch my body
your feeling
i can not reach my stomach
your sick pit
i can not listen
your whispering

you shredded me to pieces
with your perverted thesis
i exist like diahorea
running, running
body and mind
splattered behind the cot bars

i hate rhythm
there was no reason
i have pleaded to the skies
i have skurried on the ground
Jesus let me find the key
from these semen bars

 
 

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