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Jun 2012
the darkness spreads. from the chest first,
it hurts like hell.
it creeps into the blood stream, an ink with no removal.
paralyzes. blinds. constantly hitting dead ends.
tasting nothing but ash, head is heavy,
eyes constantly refueling.
darkness crawls upon the skin, no touch soothing.
no pain suitable. it disperses from fingernails.
until there is nothing left but a small puddle.

sinking.
that is all that is left to do.
Amber S
Written by
Amber S
598
   Quentin Briscoe
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