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★★★★★ (1)
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #2131371

yikes times a lot

I inhale and taste rot
If you cut me open my pink insides would be black
Curling away from my ribs in thick strips
There's something hollow in me
A heap of decay where a strong heart used to beat
I fill my lungs and get no air
Look at me
Look at what has become of me
My throat is parched
My stomach churns
What part of me is good?
What part of me is left?
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