Appalachia
Chelsea Wolfe
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It was the way we always knew
That we never had a clue
That we never had a chance
Like others in the dance
Like black diamonds, ash and light
Like the mines and anthracite
Split-tongued fellows, venom-survived
Violence only against the vile
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Here, we bleed into the wild
Then laid to rest there, man or child
This shining gutter in the Sun
Is it worth it in the run?