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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Horror/Scary >> ID #1467493 |
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I can feel it there -
a squiggling wretch inside my dead chest. The worm in my heart wriggles and squirms like a maggot delighting in rotting flesh. It mocks me - a living thought inside this shell, stagnant, impotent. My once fruitful being now sags with fleeting memory. Soon nothing will be left but for the little beast - The worm in my heart.
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