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Enswamped

The cloudiness of murky water;
a portrait of my soul.
Weeds and thorns, long decayed;
an outline of my heart.
I dive through mud and still claw deeper,
no depth too low to sink for you.
Gritty and infested shame,
enswamped where I belong.
Deleted memories of sun and light
and air I used to breathe.
Plugging danger, a leak of hope,
I can't allow a drop.
You turn to me, with acid eyes,
and tell me I'm no prisoner.
You keep me here, but not with chains,
just residue of passion.
My freedom like an infant's,
I would crawl away and die.
Further, lower, my zombie waltz,
no struggle against descent.
A coward's thrill to just give in
and not because I love you.
Love is buried with my self,
with consciousness and pride.
I am a cave, I am a shell,
scraped and scratched and rotted.
Torture is eternity and won't allow exhaustion.
It takes me over, a final yank,
I spit as I let go.
A violent purge of innocence,
I've found a place to settle.

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