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13 October 2009 @ 10:29 pm
and my fingertips tingled with death as though it were sleep.  
and my fingertips tingled with death as though it were sleep.

I'm dead and screaming from the grave,
but I don't have anything meaningful to say.
Truth be told, darling, it's probably just better,
or at least better this way.
Underground became my home
centuries ago
so I know
I know you smell the decay,
but I'd like to hope these bloody fingers
could scratch away
and scratch a way
out
but you nailed this shut
and sealed it with a kiss.