Hands reach into my throat,

clawing their way to my heart.

Red blooms under their attention,

as they slither through this maze

of veins and vessels.

Slick hands grab ahold of my still heart,

squeezing it manually.

Once, twice, thrice,

a soothing rhythm in a space,

long devoid of music.

Yet, no amount of squeezing

is enough to make my heart start beating.

No amou...

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