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Amy Ihrke
Hollow Existence
A princess she was not,
Razor sharp tongue,
Butched up,
Cut up,
####ed up,
Tattooed head to toe
Watched in the wings,
Arching in a swans neck,
Two drops zig zag in parallel
Down her perfect chest.
There was a time perhaps,
She bled deep green poison
And lingered too long in decays
Perfect embrace,
As a dirty angel’s prisoner.
Wrapped in obscurity.
Now she has only tears,
Ripped at dreams of empty shadows
And ghosts.
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