there is no easy way around it;
someone is going to suffer.
spitting up blood and vital organs
(lungs, heart, brain,)
i pick them off
the soot swirled
concrete basement floor,
and try to brush the dirt
back onto the ground,
but their pink/red skin
is moist and sticky.
i swallow.
the dirt becomes mud,
becomes part of them,
becomes part of me.
i soak the fluids up
with paper towels, q-tips, and circular motions,
then ring them out back into
my mouth.
the translucent crimson droplets
pool, and swish across my tongue.
gritty and bitter.
i swallow.
and try to disinfect my thoughts
with turpentine.
it's not working.
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