Everyone’s ugly when they’re dead

The crowns on our heads were made to be bludgened
but for you my dear
It was meant to be the ash tray for my tears
to hold you while you freeze me with the chill of your dead corpse
and if I could do it again I would
to witness your beauty fade into a titanium white hue of your ashy complexion
So I can remember that I love you and that you're
I'm still bargaining with God
But it seems Nature doesn't do second chances

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