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Handprints stain my heart. They're yours. I am plagued; comatose, a ritualistic rebirth I claw my way out by morning. Steady, inescapable, and raw, colorless thoughts I wake, a hollow shell a crescent. Crumbs of my Eden remain they linger as you linger burlesque, a temptress stepping softly. I'll not let the words crawl across my lips I'd rather let them form brief, violent hailstorms than risk it all again. Wrists heavenward, breathless, I submit.
0
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 12:23 PM UTC
Fool
Handprints stain my heart. They're yours. I am plagued; comatose, a ritualistic rebirth I claw my way out by morning. Steady, inescapable, and raw, colorless thoughts I wake, a hollow shell a crescent. Crumbs of my Eden remain they linger as you linger burlesque, a temptress stepping softly. I'll not let the words crawl across my lips I'd rather let them form brief, violent hailstorms than risk it all again. Wrists heavenward, breathless, I submit.
marina-rose
Written by
American
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 12:23 PM UTC
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