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 May 2018 Ingrid Starr
Tara Marie
An animal is what I am,
with fangs that bite too deep.
Awake at night, and too possessed
to get a wink of sleep.

Amused by chasing freedom
from feeling what is real.
I would go to any length,
I'd make a Devil's deal.

Corrupted and conflicted,
until I find my friend.
He's killing me, and ripping me
apart from every end.

Smoke is curling up inside.
Noise is somewhat dull.
Silent moving pictures streaming
softly in my skull.

I think the ground is quaking.
My eyes are dry as sand.
The carpet feels like metal scraping flesh
upon my hands.

Shaking within cavities
I thought did not exist.
My temperature from cold to hot,
I'm fiending for the bliss.

I wish the things I felt right now
would wound me to my grave.
But fantasies of you inside my veins
is what I crave.

I've sobered up and looked
upon my arms, who seem to yearn.
A distant scream inside my heart
tells me I'll never learn.

A bag, a spoon, a spark, a *****
and now I'm turning blue.
Blue death inside my bones and skin,
an animal for you.

— The End —