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Oct 2019
My words were wasted
they collect,
then they spill.
A sliced artery.
Words flood away from the cluttered blue in my veins,
leaving them empty.
I spill more; the metal aroma pools inside my mouth,
no words,
choke and spit on the blood.
Breath escaping deflated lungs,
making me shrink into a brittle relapse.
Dawn
Written by
Dawn  20/F/TX
(20/F/TX)   
  272
     Imran Islam, Colm, ---, ---, Bogdan Dragos and 2 others
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