i wrote this almost two years ago, and it's as true today, right this very second, as it was when i wrote it. surely, i am a dead man (er, woman) walking.
my death is long and drawn out
a parade of gore and slaughter
my flesh dangling in strips
sloughed off of my body with every blow administered
with every bloody footprint trailing off behind me
i am more and more free
beautifully torn, broken and scattered
a magnificent mess
i look just like You must have
Your death set freedom in motion
and mine follows in the pattern You first began
the final and most excellent contradiction of my life is that
dying is just the beginning of living
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