37b. Where The Butterflies Go To Die

She was the static under my sheets
I crept out the window that day,
I don't deserve this,
I feel harder and blacker each day,
I am the echo in her mouth…
Just a substance to wash it out.

 I can't seem to stop drinking,
It brings me higher,
It takes me lower.

 I go where the butterflies die,
It's all just a matter of time.

 It seems I breathe the same air as I always have before,
Nothing is changing now.

The End

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