When it comes to words, I work wonders;
until wonders fall on you.
Then my script splits as a serpents tongue
past speech, I know not what to do.
So I drown myself in the slimiest grey
hoping some genius will fall through.
But in all my mess, I still confess
my weakening is you.
Its sick and twisted, rotten and cold
addicted to a someone I never knew.
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