What is the price?
Where do I slip in the token
Of my esteem?
I am willing to put myself aside,
Write in blood and bone,
Make pictographs of scar tissue,
Rip them open for a little color.
I am a half alive man,
A tomb that needs to be broken into.
I am my own grave robber
Shattering the pottery and
Sifting through the shards
To get at the good stuff.
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