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Crimson
It starts as a beating heart,
thumping to it’s secret song.
It starts as breathing lungs,
pumping along normally.
Perfect songs are interrupted.
Mind wiped clean.
All thoughts besides one are disrupted,
crimson vision.
Close my eyes and my heart quivers like a bull,
my lungs pump up, down, up, down.
Each quiver and each breath is gold.
Is power.
I know I shouldn’t push boundaries like this,
but I’ve been thirsty and I finally get to drink.
I need this coursing through my veins,
I’m an addict.
As lungs and heart pump side by side,
the rest of my body follows.
My stomach ravels itself into a tightly wound ball
and prepares itself to fight.
But in a moment of clarity
when the hot haze dissipates,
the lungs reach for a larger breath,
and when that breath lets out...
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