No Language
Owen
I guess I'm still angry
I'm still punching walls that look like you
I drop kicked an old lady
She didn't do anything
There are consequences for inactions, too
No common words
No language
I've no way to curse you and your burnt skin
I'm still seeing red
Dropping excuses like dead skin
Ignoring bruises like children
Jumping out of every window left open
and catching every branch on my way down
No ornate tomb or unmarked headstone
I've no place to curse you so I won't
You know I'm still pissed after a life tempestuous
Unless you can rise from the dead I'll die like this
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