deepundergroundpoetry.com
East of the Sun.West of the Moon
I tore my
flesh
away and
you still
saw nothing
two slits to
my
bounded
wrists, you
muted my
voice
you were
the devil’s
anthem
swelling
inside my
heavenly
bosom
but it's ok,
I wasn't
born to be
protected.
My strength
My Own
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