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Jan 2016
A whisper runs down my cheek
The touch of a single breath
A shimmering trail of pain it leaves
Upon my weary flesh.

A story falls from my cheek
Of fear and loss and empty cries
Its language is jumbled, its voice is weak
But tells still of evil and lies.

An ending fell to the floor from my cheek
Soaked in to my foundation
Faded now, no one hears it speak
Of my heart's lonely starvation.
Parsavagely Kompenere
Written by
Parsavagely Kompenere  19/F/Yorkshire
(19/F/Yorkshire)   
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