The Lady Who Swallows Swords and the Town Drunk
You say you’re fragile
and I’m deranged.
I believe you.
I’ve got the scars, the marks,
the creeping, ever-present shallowness
in my big dumb smile.
You’ve got the bruises and
the scarves to cover them.
We’re the perfect pair.
Two freak shows.
Let me be your black widow
and we can devour each other
slowly.
C’mon.
It’s all we got.
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