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Writer's picturedlsucultura

The Worm by Yasha

There is a worm in my brain.

It wriggles around,

In the sea of pink

It chomps at the bits,

Chews and bites.

It drains and drains.

Until my words run aground.

I sleep not a wink—

as it eats and eats,



And spits out gunk.

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