the miserable life of a miserable teenager -
tw flies
I guess they know, what we don’t. Attracted by the mess of my full rotting plates.
They’re feeding well, while I don’t know if
I could say the same.
I close my eyes to rest
and they feed on my sad face.
“I’m not dead.”
I mumble as they chew on my eyelashes.
It’s no use, they know.
They know I’m a corpse in the making.
They know, what you don’t.
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