sleuthis:

ACT  I   .     you’ve  got  cherries  for  hair    &    strawberries  on  your  mouth   / saccharinety  in  your  lungs   ,   bound  to  be  choked  out  by  those  wilted  roses   ———-   not  all  sugar  is  sweet    &    not  every  little  girl  stays  complete   .     you’ve  sung  your  tune  long  enough   ,   with  that  PARTHENOPE  VOICE   ,   that  maiden   -   like  throat       .  .  .       you’ve  sent  men  to  their  deaths    !     you   ,   a  siren   ,   a  murderer  at  best   ,   with  BLOOD  that  refuses  to  leave  what  porcelain  fingers  you  have   .     those  roses  in  your  rib  -   cage  are  being  choked  out   ,   that  sweetness  you  hold  onto    suffocated    by  bitter  thorns   .     (     YOUR  LUNGS  ARE  ULVOSE   ,  YOUR  FLOWERS  WITHERING   .     )

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