the fruits of time ripen before time
begin to rot
I am a witness of the decay
each evening I return home
devil has laid its hands on my appendix
and my bladder, ripping them out
there's blood on devil's hands
and pain in my eyes
and painkilling pills clenched between my teeth
it's an otherwise pleasant sunny morning
my dining hall filled with putrid smell of garbage
the places I have never been to,
do they miss my presence?
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