From the graveyard to the recovery room,
You never cease to shine less astounding.
Your pale skin wrapped in blackened everything
Charms me into a state of mental climax.
Gutted nicotine beauty marks spot the trickling conniptions
Coming straight from my chamber
Climb into an unkempt suture
Drink up the poison and lecture your manners
I feel like bombing out your carapace
That won't cease to stop causing a ruckus
Containment in a locket of a face full of decrepit discretions.
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