Couch Death
Standing at the edge tears dripping out of my eyes like the eggs of ants falling from the abdomen of a queen the taste is bitter in my mouth - metal like the gun I found in your smoking hand as you bled to death on the couch.
Standing at the edge tears dripping out of my eyes like the eggs of ants falling from the abdomen of a queen the taste is bitter in my mouth - metal like the gun I found in your smoking hand as you bled to death on the couch.
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