As far as I am concerned, I hope you’ll never be able to sleep again. But until then:
How would you would to feel another wearing your skin?
Would you hunt him in his sleep?
Like I know they’ll hunt you,
Harsh, and dark, and painful.
Will you remember that you wear their dried fur in your pockets,
as the fang of hundreds bites your sleazy hand?
will you tell your children stories
of how you burned life like you burn an incense stick?
And when you think of
Those who can cry but cannot speak,
Do you dream of how you’ve killed before?
(just a draft, but I needed to get it out there)
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