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blank Jan 2019
honey,
I find myself swimming
In your brown eyes.
sinking quickly into the sticky mess,
drowning.

honey.
sometimes too sweet
sometimes even bitter.

I mix honey into your kettle of lies,
soothe the roughness of your throat.
tongue tied, sharp glass words.
I’d kiss your lips
not realizing the blood you shed
was on our own battlefield

the thick, runny sound of your voice
stuck in my head.
The melody you sang to me
was hypnotizing.
did the words leave a bad taste in your mouth?

Your kisses were soft,
but your words stung like a bee.

I loved the way you made things sweet,
disguised the bitterness.

— The End —