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Sep 2013
Numb to every touch,
the fuse no longer lights.
I've plucked out every hair
to absolutely no avail.

So I'll light up
and set fire to my insides.
Words protected only by closed lips
get singed away as well.

The sirens lull me to sleep now.
It's almost an unsettling comfort to know
someone is suffering far worse than me.
Arvel Azcoe
Written by
Arvel Azcoe  Chicago
(Chicago)   
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