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Dec 2011
Cold hands pull me from my slumber,
and drag towards my fear.
I can't move or scream no one can hear.
Scratch the scabs,
let me ****.
There is no ointment or antibiotic to cure my infection.
My skin is lead,
breath of poison.
There is no hope for those around me.
I will melt their hearts,
don't come to close.
For I am my own devil,
my own dark shadow.
I've fractured my own heart,
it won't be undone.
As long as I'm contained...
Retreat.
Josef Wilhelm
Written by
Josef Wilhelm  Revelstoke
(Revelstoke)   
1.1k
 
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