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  Oct 2015 Hannah Coleman
Lynda
I own the burning heart
That you try to fix
With electrodes other
Than the ones broken
In my flesh by the blood
Of the shadow-makers
Who shared the same
Womb of poison
That carries its secrets
Of shame and indifference
Within the same thought
Which races and stabs
With each beat
On and on
Faster and faster

— The End —