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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Aftermath of love
Poem Info
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The mist silhouette's my hollow figure,
Streaks on the mirror unveil my emerald gaze,
The antiqued razorblade strikes against my face,
Fuck!
Quickly blood flows like saline tears down my cheek,
The crimson droplets stain the porcelain sink,
Twisting down the void of a drain,
To the pitch black below,
The pain is only a pulse,
If only I could just stop feeling it.
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