Hollow like a pitted fruit, nothing but scars remain
Where once my flesh connected with fibers much like thread
I walk through life with eyes half-closed to human sprays of affection
And dance in darknesses where lovers fear to tread
Much like dread, red-hot empty thoughts caress my mind like bullet slugs
Lead-lined blasts of solemn truth swarming o’er me like bugs
And wraiths and vampires hungry in the dim cold night alone
Swim through my veins and slake their thirst on river mouths.
Hollow like a pitted fruit, carnal scars remind me to refrain
From hope, from lust, from times when people draw together
Strength in numbers, tribal hopes, are comforts for wholer men
I’ll stand alone, until I’m dead, or leastways turned to stone
Hollow like a pitted fruit, rotting in my skin.
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