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May 2018
I want to descend
from the razors edges
To stray from these borders
Darkened by virulent desires
My bones crackle
Blood runs cold
Devoid of reason but not choice
The familiar bother
I want to love
The will to be is
But my hair smells of madness
And running and running.
The Noose
Written by
The Noose  32/F/Standing on the gallows
(32/F/Standing on the gallows)   
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