You slice me open, into thin, raw pieces, to make my devourment that much easier. But don't you know that I already go crazy for you during the day? I doodle your name as if it's the same as having you here with me. I'm a blade of grass and you are the wind: I bend whichever way you blow. It's a spectacle, an embarrassment, I know, but when you are what you are, you do what you do, and you just hope you don't get cut down along the way.
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