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She lives in the basement- All frail limbs and frozen fingers My sunken eyed reflection- Close by she ever lingers. She is all at once full of frigid breath, and yet passionately dead, Her sharp sadness etched upon her face, in the lines upon her forehead. She scratches outside the door of my mind, crooning deceptively in a warm and gentle mist, But I know the truth within the trickery- The piercing volcanic bite of her barbed wire kiss. She clamors at my fragile gate, beating bloody fists upon my sultry heart like a heroin addict- Scared and shivering in the shadow of my looming smile- I believe Iíll be staying up in the attic!
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