Three glances across meshed glass,
the folds in an old poster
still standing strong.
The void is normally in your gut.
Your mind feels intact.
Tear glands prepare themselves.
In a few words my heart
twisted into a puzzle and the blood
wouldn't reach my hands.
Don't look at me with those eyes,
they make me feel thin.
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1 comment:
i don't like you very much right now, but i still enjoy this poem :)
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