Demons ? They are for you the monsters of my sleep. Blood ? Do you mean through your veins or the one flowing to the sewers on the side of the road from the body in the middle of it ? Only thinking about myself ? Who even am I ? Am I a man or the illusion of my consciousness ?
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Prose and poetry
PoetryProse and poetry, feelings and speech in text. I wanted to live as a human, But never never really was a man.
