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The Beast

This tortuous, mind-bending game is unbearable. It seeps into my skin I wear it in a daily fashion. Grasping at my skull Bleeding, crying, feeling Fueling this never-ending cycle. When can I stop feeding this beast? It's cyclical hunger daunts my days Demanding a sacrifice. Forever seeking to be free of this turmoil. I grasp at lights Too dim for my bound eyes. Just a shade too dark Sheathed in false vellum with superficial colloquies. - Caroline Youngless 05/21/2020

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Book: Shattered Sighs