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Starved

A Poem

By Atomic HistorianPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Starved
Photo by bruno costa on Unsplash

Starved of affection

Lacking in any direction

A reflection I’ve never recognized

Bleeding from my inner eye

Better to be between a set of thighs

Than to drop my disguise

Surrounded by half truths

And whole lies

Just trying to make it out of life alive

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About the Creator

Atomic Historian

Heavily irradiated historian developing my writing career. You can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, & Instagram. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.

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Comments (2)

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  • Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock2 years ago

    No one makes it out of life alive, tautologically speaking. But I, too, would prefer to be between a pair of thighs.

  • L.C. Schäfer2 years ago

    Not sure you'll succeed in that last point 🤔 😁

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