98/365

Bleeding black,
the words spill across the page
hasty thoughts and scratches
crazy lines and hash tags
circles of air floating up
and up until they pop
lips pursed—trying to suck
the oxygen
into her system
to clear the poison
flowing through her blood.

Black.Dark.Dirty.

Places no one wants to be.
Her soul has gone away.

Black
scratches
bleeding through paper.
Poison spilling across the page.
It’s gone, baby.
Gone.

She’s black.

She’s so far gone.

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