They set a boundary—set it twice. They did not care how she was nice. To be her friend had been the lie. They’d not have seen that in the sky. Reflect she did the way they felt—how none would ever prove of wealth. They’d hurt and ran — ‘I said goodbye’ — it was for this they’d watch her die. She dared to know that they were wrong, how they had owed her all along. Had fun to watch her scream and cry—helped others like her come to fly. They took and took and took some more. Then blamed her for the curse in store. If they live I’ll one day know. No matter—this was not their show. This friend they lost would burn it down, she’d gloat in love about the town. Two would show out for their heart; sacred visions from their art. Conflation spat the girl along, lies of feeling in her song. While some was real the source was not some petty, worthless, whorish twat. It was The Queen who felt the most about this girl and her shit ghost. To see her there would be the key—never a chance for him and me.
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