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Unworded

Unworded

1 min
327


I abandon my pen, 

And look down at my hands. 

Words don't come, 

Only a splatter of wet spots, 


Adorne the crumpled page. 

Begrimed fingernails, 

Claw at an unseen wall.

Dry breaths rattle my heart, 


And chill the cracks of my soul. 

The stench of festering nights, 

Fill my nostrils. 

And up above... 


Mildewed stars twinkle bright, 

So wet, so cold... 

Once again, I have the passions, 

You buried in me, 


Night after night... 

I look down at my hands. 

They reek, 

Of you. 

Of me. 

Of love.


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