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The Track Marks

Purple bruises
like smudged lines
of rejected poetry
just below the skin.

A far cry,
a brand.

"She smells like corruption."

The money missing,
shifty eyes,
they can't release this venom.
The collapsing veins reveal it all.

They can't be denied.
Unseen.

Liquid lies injected
straight to the heart.
Written by forever-for_real (Tess Stoops)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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