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Anna Wakefield
Poems
Feb 2020
Frankenstein, or just the monster?
I feel nothing, and everything
An empty echo
Trapped, screaming but yawning.
I go unheard.
There is a spark,
a promise of reanimation
in endless pools of blue.
I can die and live
a thousand lifetimes
in an interlocked gaze…
But what happens
when the jolt
no longer
reanimates
the dead.
#embrace
#alone
#need
Written by
Anna Wakefield
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