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Play Along
Bitter cuts that sting with red
and throb with blood
today form
and become.
I’ve lost my heart,
I’ve lost my heart.
Your eyes and freckles touched mine
and rained tears
on our necks
and shoulders.
My soul is torn,
My soul is gone.
I've read things written on your body
just to spite me
by your lover
and your captor.
My body drags,
My body tires.
“He is like a poltergeist,”
I tell her, shaking,
“becoming more dead
by the minute.”
I am hunted.
I am haunted.
I tell her: “I’ve lost my heart,
my soul is gone,
my body drags,
and I am hunted.
But, sure, I’ll play along.”
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