Scars graze home upon my skin,

tattooed of perpetual sin,

tipped deep red pronged pin;

Blindly masked: cloth excessively tight,

make believe – a devious foe in times of fright,

rogue plagues unfairly one's mind;

I fall within gathering arms,

nourish hideous figures rabid in pitch dark,

What will become of the bit of purity deserted in heart?

I shudder to part –

Sweet, vicious existence,

bares candidly, its own precise detriments.

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