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lyrics
A crown of thorns adorned your head, but your blood tasted like iron and not the wine you wished you bled. I did everything I could to not learn anything from you but how to be a martyr. I must have taken part in the violence. I can't have only been a victim. I must have guided the hand that broke me. I was shaped by abuse, now I'm the vermin son. Your teeth aren't the only part of you in my veins. This anxiety’s a black stone you vomited out when you swallowed your children. You must have engraved the worst parts of you in my bones. I'm some sick attempt to reverberate the evils that you have sewn into your home. I don't hate you anymore, because if I did, that would mean that I still think of you at all.