Curse
I think it's the numbness
That hurts me the most.
That droning sound of silence.
I think it's the desparity
That kills me the slowest.
That makes me crave more violence.
But I know for sure,
Beyond any doubt,
That the loneliness is the worst.
With its low, throbbing ache
And the voids that it makes,
I fear, I am forever cursed.
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