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Passion, i've lost the skin you wore.
i've held your heart in my hand, but whispered 'my lung, my lung'.
Passion, i've called you love.
my torment, i've called you passion.
my anguish- the sick feel of you in my skin, the smothering hold of you in my blood- I unwound it from my chest and tore it from my ribs, and thought 'so this is love'.
my 'love' is not so loving.
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