That vixen, so full of trickery.
Demoralizing my mind, my words.
Breaking down my truth and living there within.
A routine worn thin with abrasive sin.
Scrubbing at my fingernails to wash out the blood.
Scratching at my eyes to ruin what I've seen.
This is not the blood of another.
It's the blood of what I've been.
vixen, eh?
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