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Friday, 21 August 2015

3am


as dark as it is
as hollow as it feels
the weight is on the arm
the heart is too heavy

I ran in the dark
I hit walls
rolled on the floor
kicked the door
and the sponge of the bed let me

I have pins cutting
knifes are weak
soul burning
fire is cold
tears fell
eyes swollen
words skipped
while the heart ripped

in need of some rain
the drought is ought
stomach shrinking
the floor is picking
legs floating
and I'm drowning

the dark speaks
it speaks and I'm listening

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