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Dec 2018
Liquid walls distort your voice
They guide me to the undertow
Groomed to be a sacrifice
I close my eyes and let go

Haunted by tomorrow
Glued to the clock
I am not ready to swallow
A life outlined in chalk

I am underwater
People pace above my head
Ready for the slaughter
I am pronounced dead
little
Written by
little
491
     ---, Fawn and ---
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