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Shruti Atri Jul 2021
I am tired of feeling lost
Being left behind;
I am sick of mourning
While presenting my silence...

I wait for my iron blood
To thicken and freeze;
My veins, my heart
Too stiff to feel again--

I wait for cold numbness
To dull my aching eyes;
To release my soul
From merciless compassion.

I wait to draw a breath
In freedom, in selfishness;
Untainted by their expectations
If only one, if only once...

Till my madness consumes me.

— The End —