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The night and she.

The night sent its warmth
into her wounded soul,
twisted mind and 
over her sapless body that
all her scars bled open-
where the cold breeze raced
with the moon's flames;
Both too wildly furious. Yet, 
her scars won't let them 
into her wounded soul,
twisted mind or
over her sapless body,
because,
They are too loud,
even louder
Than her inner voices,
When all she needs is
Peace of mind.

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