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Nothing But

  • Liora Hyman
  • Sep 22, 2017
  • 1 min read

I am nothing but

bloodied curtains, demons’ down payments

a brick building brooding

crimson silence.

I am nothing but drag rouge across a man’s upper lip

the angry flow of Hot Chili Pepper tears

of fire and lit albums.

I am nothing but dancing across live coals

thriving off your painful hops

to coat the bottoms of your feet.

I am nothing but hellfire’s hellhounds

the rosebud picked

and red rovers of childhood innocence

and I am nothing.

Nothing but.

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