In the end, I crave for voice ...for want of sight, of touch,
Even smell and taste.. A tactile person I am.
And I'm empty tonight feeling like crumpled paper
While chemistry echoes ..churning away in my brain lobes.
Empty like a sigh. A sigh that wishes things were different.
I can't do this...
Is all that leaving this salty residue
Of phlegm, these
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