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Vial Heart

November 13, 2025 by
Vial Heart
Doyle Turner
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This heart on my sleeve is blackened and dried out.

It itches but bever heals.

I pick at the scabs to feel.

Bleeding for me as I bled for us.

I see your lips in the crimson as it goes twisting down my limbs.

Goose flesh ripples up my spine.

I should rip away this tattooed skin to show you what lies beneath. 

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