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Jan 2013
You are not
The whine on my lips
Not the
Whiskey
Sitting crooked
Inside me.
You are not
The restless thing in my chest
Fighting the minded cage

You are
The violence beating in my chest
The nothingness that burns
That aches.
You are the fingers
Lifting the glass
To my lips
And the reason
I don’t
Sleep
At night.
ghost girl
Written by
ghost girl
583
   Atalanta Undigested and JM
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