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Altared Crisp, clear, cut-throat and to the point. What more could this body possibly endure? How much longer must this soul dangle by the thread of imperfection? I ask you. Release me tonight and allow me the opportunity to repent myself, for whatever remorse might be pulled from this atrocity. I beg you. Carry me over the altar and send me to the fallen angels. Rest my head upon the throne and pierce my honor with guilt. I need you. To be as good as I might see things to be. To allow the distance to infiltrate the loneliness. To let the memories invoke the vivid image of what I used to have. I lost you, and along the way I've seemed to lose myself. Relentlessly denying the rumors that I was doing just fine. Allowing myself to wander avenues of wasted time. Grieving for the little things and missing what means the most. Crisp, clear, and cut-throat, I love you. |
Additional Notes:
i purposely misspelled the title and gave reference to the church altar to bring out the feeling of losing one's faith when love turns sour. i hope i did this well. i would like to know what you think oof this.
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