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My Heart

My Heart, my Heart, why have you not deserted me? Even though my thoughts sicken me everyday. My own heart is a dove in a cauldron, it sinks deep within a mind that slyly impersonates being, yet it is but a shadow on a glass wall. That mind turns to grab hold of every ghost, to look, to need, to build a fantasy out of clouds. My Heart, my Heart why do you stay? Why do I call to you like this with a small child's voice?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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