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Weird Poetry

She is not your darkness

Or the clawing in your head,

Nor is she the bruised tulip

Withering in your cupped and calloused hands.

She is not that unwritten poem

Etched in concealed scabs across your chest,

Nor is she your reason to drown.

She is more than that…

More than you will ever know.

~~~

❤👽

~~~

*** Insomnia…. ***

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