Nothing Left to Say

You ask me
to speak,
and so I try,
but my mouth
runs dry
and only flies
escape from
the barren caverns
that once contained
a voice
that echoed
throughout classrooms
and over espresso machines,
bleeding brown
to satisfy your
unending cravings,
and I-
I no longer cry
for there is
nothing,
in the emptiness,
not even my
addiction to blood.

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