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Hollow-Holler

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November 22, 2010 - 9:51

My heart has a periodic murmur, a moth in my throat, and when I hold my breath its off-beat racks my body. My lips are chapped and I am molting. My skin is peeling. My muscles feel limp; there's no anger therefore no fight, just dread and defeat.
I know that I have to be tough now, I am just not sure where it will come from this time. Crumbling reinforcements.

Forgetting myself entirely so as not to disappear.