wounded masquerade - where the pulse should be lyrics
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a hollowed+out sp+ce
precise, cut clean
as if something vital
was removed
a vacant sp+ce
where a pulse should hammer
a quiet, slow drain
nothing will make a difference
the weight
of what’s not there
it deadens the air i breathe
m+ffling every sound
reaching me
the morning light
falls on the floorboards
the city hums outside my window
it makes no difference
not a wound that bleeds anymore
a well of quiet
i could fall
forеver
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