This is the end. The sun sets on our broken backs and we’ve been here before
And we are left without a single thing. Without a heart
We are armed to the teeth. Without a single thing. We are nothing more than ink
on paper
We travel through their fingerprints
Our clothes become bandages to ease the pain of selflessness
We will never trust ourselves and this is how it begins
They sift through our abandoned homes but they won’t find us They won’t find our secrets, encased alive beneath the floor
They have abandoned us. They hunt us down. They hunt us through seasons
They hunt us for years. This is the end

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