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Jul 2019
Soak this throat in poison
wait for haunted gasping breath.
Fear triggers the notion
that I might survive this death.
Heavy sunken depressed chest,
windpipes start to burst.
Chorus plays from chords in test,
shrills have been rehearsed.
Skin held up as hostage
to the blooming of false wounds.
Blood betrayed and caustic,
crimson black hypnotic hues.
Eyes roll like dice inside
a floppy falling head.
Final breaths discreetly hide
regretful words of dread.
Open to the world in blue,
lips no longer tremble.
Scars explain the tried and true
existence now dissembled.
Know this flesh contained no hope,
this chest held no new light.
Better death and I elope,
so we can cease this fight.

~kb
kbww
Written by
kbww  33/F
(33/F)   
181
     Imran Islam and A Simillacrum
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