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Blood Leaves
43:46
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As I slit my throat
I notice the pretty leaves beneath me
Begin to change color
Spring-ripen leaf
You're not supposed to be red now
What have I done?
I feel more guilty about the blood-encrusted forest
Than I do my own neck
Though it is almost dark
And then it will not matter
Feeling lightheaded
I lay down on the same path I wandered about to find the Phortect
The blood puddle grows deeper, yet so does the guilt
But I am close to death now
Bye
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