What a wish, what a shift, what a twist of fate.
All we waste, all we break, did we agitate… all we have, all we know,
underneath our feet?
Choke it down, spit it up — a spoiled piece of meat… is getting harder… and
harder to identify.
Crooked cooking, no one’s looking
up the alibi.
What a wish, don’t you wish it was as simple as… an answerless question no one
needs to ever ask?
If all you do… this time around… come back to you
Always, but often in disguise.
And all you do… to those around… would scar you too
Are you planning to survive?

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