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Poetry 1

Tell me sir,
How I've become so cold,
How my bones are so brittle,
The shivers running down my spine.

Tell me please, and tell me why,
I am lost,
I am trapped,
Like darkness overwhelming,
With no escape.

Suffocating heat and burning pain,
Lines of scarlet down my veins,
They don't understand how numb I've become,
They'll laugh,
They'll cry,
They'll drink themselves away,
Into some repulsive bliss of,
Unimaginable pain,
Of slurred memories of,
Undone sins.

I'm broken at last,
I cannot stand,
Gears twisted beyond repair,
Silky hair matted with tears,
Blood stains against white sheets,
Silver against soft flesh,
No way out, she said,
Never a way out.
5ymph0n1c4 5ymph0n1c4 13-15, F Jan 29, 2013

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