Poetic Dustbin

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The Crank

I can feel the glass shatteringinside my head, inside my brainEach broken piece is a chapterwounding my sanitykeeping me awakedepriving me of solacecarving through my skintearing through my fleshIt doesn’t end, it never doesThe crackling sound it makesand the torment it bestowsare voices of little demonsmaking my ears bleedover and over againI am crankedsuperficially aliveand …

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