DAMAGE CONTROL
[PRAYERS. SEX. DREAMS. BLOOD.]
crash
This is not about love, baby,
this is about words,
like water seeping up through broken ice--
like screams made into whispers
that no one's ever heard.
This is about the secrets men keep
when price outweighs gain--
this is about salt rubbed into fresh wounds.
Lover, this is about pain.
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