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Sep 2020
Every night I up the dosage. Dull the nerves in hopes I won’t feel you.
But like clockwork, as I sink into my bed I can feel you.
Your scent is so familiar, like the mist of the sea to a grizzled fisher.
Just like a siren to a sailor, I can hear your chanting, your breathing.
No matter how many poems, nor countless dreams, you always find a way in.
Splitting the edges of my skull so you can seep through my bloodstream.
You never let my wounds heal.

You are my favourite scars.
Written by
Dead  22/M/R’yleh
(22/M/R’yleh)   
194
 
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