So not difficult to imagine
The death of me slowly
Of yours truly
In the quiet dark and coldness
But the dreams they differ
In eccentric atrocities
Vivid with warm red
By what hand it bled
To wonder how close
The dream world it mimics
Us in our lives together
Mashed, torn tethers
Frayed at the edges
Of insides of my mind
Of heart strings held binding
With comfort attending
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