Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash
such a terror to be human
In of such a mortal condition, there is no
Lasting Peace against the evil of emotions
Engulfed in more fluids that I loathe, I am longing to flush them like a virus
No longer hearing the sounds of my sickness of death, lone love
Cancels out all my sounds
Every one of my cries like a dying star in space, never allowed to be heard again
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