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The Psychotic Library.
Poem for a friend.
How did you get inside my head?
If you're reading this, it's too late.
I'm dead.

I begged you to call, then I didn't answer.
I felt like even my voice could cause the recipient cancer..

I wept blood, even my demons were mourning.
Worried I may be happier without their fragrant screams.

I dreamed.
Wounded and ripping at the ♥ strings.
You were my wings, and I didn't care.





 
 
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