What Do I Do With the Void
To tell you the truth, Madam, all week and night
My heart has kept just one candle alight
And your absence a strange bother of a wind
Fuel rather than blow out the anxious flickering
My blood like white fat draining, and the din
In my head, such a storm of unhesitated worrying
What do I do with the void?
What do I do with the void?
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