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by DaylightFades

I run my Cross across my skin;
seams come undone and seep out sin.
Sew it shut with fragile thread
Be still, the movement in my head.

I spin and spin: a roundabout
Balance? I will live without
a sense of where I stand and why,
I’ve tip-toed, crawled, and ran: I tried

I latched on: a lowly parasite
I found my host; feasted on life
I’ve had my fill, so I detach,
detach from life, to death I latch

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1 comment

whiskered-fish 3/8/2016 - 1:05 pm

I really liked the rhythm in this. This is good work, albeit very sorrowful.

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