Creative Voices

By: Isabella Sevilla @2020hiraeth / Contributor || Edited by Amber Alexander

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With a body too feeble and weak to impose my will, 

I wanna drill into my bones and see what I’m made of. 

I want to see what I’m made of. 

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The other day I ate away at my tips, just to consume you. 

Chugging the dead air and chalk, I found not a single piece of your visage. 

But empty hands, grasping. 

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