Words spilling like tepid water. Words spilling like fetid shit. Opening old wounds, making them fresh and new. My nerves sing like wires, humming my insanity in three-part harmony. Like black ghosts across the paper. Ripping through dead flesh just to see if I can still feel anything at all. Opening old wounds with words that fall one after another on deaf ears. Another day, another phrase, another nail struck in my coffin. Another nail through my hands. Another nail through my feet. With words that fall one after another on deaf ears.

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