Can I, low as I have fallen

not hold dearly to something?



Her eyes, lifeless as they may be

presented something easy



But oh, to say that I could hold yous

outside of bespattered sheets

my plastic darling,

would be a dream



Unlike those witches I detest,

she’s always at her best



An idol of a girl; she always leaves me empty,

my comforting, vacuous effigy of nothing really



But oh, to say that I could hold yous

outside of bespattered sheets

my plastic darling,

would be a dream





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