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Oct 2019
Bleeding, I held my heart.
Wounded all over, again and again.

I shouldn't feel anything, I should be numb.
Yet why does it still ache, whenever you're in pain.
You left long ago, yet your presence still fresh.

This heart, the epitome of dumb.
Written by
A Nameless Scribe  Reality Marble
(Reality Marble)   
168
   Bogdan Dragos
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