Secret Agony



Stitches down your sides;
A stash of provocative wishes,
Crushed by your hand.
A desire to speak–
A yearning so loud to utter
What you have in mind;
Although, no one wants
To listen to your crimes–
A ridiculous waste of time.
Though, you can’t cease
The insistent bleeding;
Shivers creep up your spine;
A lyre wails in the background.

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