Corrupted

I told you I hated them corrupted.
I told you their black lungs could never release the words that I hold dear.
I told you their dark red lips would only sing songs that lead to ruin.
I told you I hated them corrupted.

I love them corrupted.
I love the masked pain that sits only evident in their eyes.
The glint of bereavement, quaint and curious.
I love their measured laughs at displeasure.
I love the nonchalance that clings to them like a shadow, always calling you to their side.


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