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Jul 2018
She was born at 3.41am,
Electronics,
Neon lamps,
Needles,
And mouth masks,
From a place of great peace,  
To loud,
Shambolic fuss,
Open wounds,
Weak,
Not immune,
Drugs forming spirals of inaudible sounds,
Drowning and gargling,
***** and cold,
Turning blue,
Being wrung out,
Mum crying out,
Wanting to feel flesh upon flesh,
Tear upon head,
Hands clasped in prayer,      
Hoping the girl,
Innocent and young,
Was lying cradled in heaven,
By 11.41.
Tilda
Written by
Tilda  13/Europe
(13/Europe)   
790
   Ziolko
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