I resent
This resentment
Who sought no consent
Slithering through my mind
Soot-ing it with lies
I do not feel
Who told you
It was okay
To fill secluded recesses
With your smut?
(I had some dreams
To paint them
With mediocre faith)
Scour it out
Let the vacuum be
Being numb shall trump
Perhaps
I’d rather feel nothing
Than this.
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