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Enswamped The cloudiness of murky water; a portrait of my soul. Weeds and thorns, long decayed; an outline of my heart. I dive through mud and still claw deeper, no depth too low to sink for you. Gritty and infested shame, enswamped where I belong. Deleted memories of sun and light and air I used to breathe. Plugging danger, a leak of hope, I can't allow a drop. You turn to me, with acid eyes, and tell me I'm no prisoner. You keep me here, but not with chains, just residue of passion. My freedom like an infant's, I would crawl away and die. Further, lower, my zombie waltz, no struggle against descent. A coward's thrill to just give in and not because I love you. Love is buried with my self, with consciousness and pride. I am a cave, I am a shell, scraped and scratched and rotted. Torture is eternity and won't allow exhaustion. It takes me over, a final yank, I spit as I let go. A violent purge of innocence, I've found a place to settle.
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