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July 11, 2015 - Poetry

A voice
blurred, pixilated,
spatters chatter
across wires.

Hopes spark.

Silence follows.
Hard.
Cold.
Brutally empty.

This silence weighs
on my mind,
my chest,
my heart,
my brain,
sitting darkly down.

Sparks flash
and die.

› tags: Poetry /

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