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Oct 2018
fingertips pried my ribs apart
invited themselves in
with malicious whispers
of belonging, the kind that
make lonely hearts beat.
made a mess of the
pretty girl, the nightmare
in a white dress.
made myself a throne,
heir to my own wreckage.
crown of broken glass
and bloodstains, and
you wonder why
my kingdom is in shambles.
ghost girl
Written by
ghost girl
157
   Gabriel burnS
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