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Feb 2016
Disturbed, twisted and putrid
Tar runs through my veins into my shallow beating heart.
A shadow chills my bones
a voice made of ice promises restitution.
My eyes as hollow and purposeful as a death in space.
Β Β It makes my heart writhe like serpents being branded by Irons.
I have no room for this emotion.
Not anymore.
Courtlyn Quay
Written by
Courtlyn Quay  United States
(United States)   
263
   Cecil Miller
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