Archaic methods transfer
through well in the face of mass denial.
Bitterness fuels the mode
for the escape of mediocrity.
Stepping the grate, shattered nerves
ground down to a glass edge
carrying me away.
Bloodletting a favorite game of solitaire.
A suicide mission destined to fail,
a moving ladder to climb taking me away.
I wouldn't have it any other way

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