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 Jun 2013 heathen
Ayda
Georgia Clay
 Jun 2013 heathen
Ayda
I know you too well;
you don't exist.

Only in the depths of my mind
buried deep like
Georgia clay --
found but impossible to fully dig up
with my bare hands.
Instead I claw at my brain and
scrape out as much of you as I can.

Your remains linger

unreachable, crimson fresh.

— The End —