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Anatomy of a Left Ventricle

Pain dresses me up,

In battle gear.

Swords of words

And an iron mask

Can’t feel your love underneath.

Your forgiveness will not penetrate.

Your passion, it makes me suffocate;

Because I don’t deserve it.

We’re marching towards nowhere

After the sunset, hoping it’ll be sunrise soon.

Keep singing cadence to make myself believe

It will all be over soon.

But I know it won’t be.

So I join the ranks,

Get in the tanks to kill,

Losing myself feels so surreal,

Discovering two halves,

Different paths I must follow

And burn in the process.

A red rebirth

One to satisfy this dearth of happiness.

A terribly marred past, childhood; experience vast,

people who change fast,

mass producing hardened hearts

brittle, yet easily broken.

Hope stays abandoned in beautiful stories of survivors

In the library

Maybe someone else will read them again

And remember.

Hard to forget,

Hard to remember,

To dismember, the dreams.

Learning to trust no one, not even myself,

At war with everything

And nothing is safe.

War that needs more and more and more to survive

As well as wither.

Adapting, forgetting who we really are,

Though we never figured that out to begin with.



A dark strategic masterpiece.



Little stabs cutting my heart to pieces

And I can’t cry out

Because no one hears the cries of a murderer.



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