There is a song 
Playing in my head. 
A bitter-sweet melody 
Telling me not to dread. 

The song is different 
Instead of strings
I hear blades 
Instead of drums 
I see my skin. 

The music is written on my skin. 
In a staff of red 
The notes fall like te

Katherine Peek

There is a song Playing in my head. A bitter-sweet melody Telling me not to dread. The song is different Instead of strings I hear blades Instead of drums I see my skin. The music is written on my skin. In a staff of red The notes fall like te


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