4.Suffering From
In the direction of the blood that runs from a fresh cut throat,
we run down.
From the perspective of a dead man's eyes staring up at dead men
walking tall.
We face up to look down.
We breathe out just to hear something else.
There's a connection like a mid-air collision makes a point to
kiss each other goodbye.
By the looks on your faces, I bet you've never seen blood run
this thin and cold.
It goes down like ocean water breathed into the lungs, like
glass swallowed and spit up.
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