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Jan 2
Desire.
Killing softer souls
Then meets the eye.

Screaming,
Drowning.
Running,
Empowering,

I am all but there.

My mind flares
With ideas
That the heavens wouldn't dare
To declare.

For life, I do not bear.

Numb to a feeling,
Born too daring.
Unwilling to sober,
Utterly uncaring.

That is I,
And I shall be until the end of time.
Where I sit against a wall,
Dimmer than my mind.
This poem is about murderers. A dark topic, but it is about the sinister reality of the mind of a murderer. I hope you all enjoy it!
Chelsea Quigley
Written by
Chelsea Quigley  21/F/Waterford
(21/F/Waterford)   
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