Anna Wakefield

November - Nottingham
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Frankenstein, or Just the Monster

I feel nothing, and everything
An empty echo
Trapped, screaming but yawning.
I go unheard.

There is a spark,
a promise of reanimation
in endless pools of blue.

I can die and live
a thousand lifetimes
in an interlocked gaze…

But what happens
when the jolt
no longer
reanimates
the dead.
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