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but all the gods gave me
I slept idly at the moment of my death I lounged as the axe fell No I wasn't well, not at midnight, not now, not tomorrow I burn at the stomach and the heart My only weapon is the broken fist The hoarse throat, the cheap words I have stars at my temples, I feel sacrifice and bitterness I am ugly because I'm true, because I'm dirty and I don't want to be nice I don't want to be nice because no one was ever nice back, even when I was I want to be nice with violence, I want guts and truth; and love Spurn me, scorn me oh ye stars You've cast your fires to me And oh how upon all these days you've given me I've burned You don't see them but I've seen them all, and I don't breathe air: I breathe stars' fires, feel blood at the bones from the deep cuts I feel blood at my throat but I don't want to die I'm dying twenty deaths but my guts won't swallow them Instead I wear all their wounds at my hips I am ugly because all I can be is me, now That twenty AU stare, from that dark star that ripped out my heart So that I go on living with half a heart and half a lung I asked for providence; but all the gods gave me was Absinthe
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