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Settling into the colours of life

We grow into tomorrows we do not know

Our scars become familiar pathways

That lead to the house of forgotten times
In front of me
A cluster of candied lights
I close my eyes and a sickly sweet smell
From memory floats back
For this seems to be the last one.
A dry throat
Yellow eyes switch to ****** red
Fingers curling in agony
Floating in a pool of regret
Me?
But I can only sigh.
And wait for a dead melody.
Tearing out the pages
Of unwanted history
From a mahogany back
Splattered with blood
Her head on one lap
And feet sprawled across another
Her midriff was levitating in darkness
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