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May 2015
Do I or don't I?
It's a double edged sword
And I'm cutting myself with both sides.
It's a comfortable torture,
Which is horrifying in itself.
Tonight I dance with self inflicted silence
Again; and I forget to breathe.
Every second petal fell...
Where do I fall from here?
Memories rush of times when I let blood dry
Night after night again on my thigh.
He was there, but what constellation do I call home now?

You are my home, my heart and the stars.
What have I done?
It feels cold; so cold and the air is fragile
When you're silent.
But my flat lining heart isn't as quiet as I'd like.
I'm sorry. This is a mess
Written by
Madds  Melbourne
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