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Feb 2015
I'm getting tired of walking into brick walls
Wherever I go. This time when I talked to you
It didn't sting as much because I now know to shower
In acid before we converse. I don't mock you... Ever.
I have never laid a figurative finger on you,
Yet when I open up, even if it's just a small splice

Down the center of my chest, you swat away what I
Have to say like it's nothing but a pest. So, I will humour
You, since the only thing your low opinion of me does
Now is amuse me. I chew on your words, let them cut
The inside of my mouth like knives. Your look, your laugh
Resonate within me until I am thoroughly encompassed

By a magnified mocking so alive I can't tell where that
Image ends and I begin.
First I had writers block, then I was busy, and now I'm still busy but at least I managed to record something of my overly-sentimental feelings from these past few days. I probably could have written this better but oddly enough I don't want to.
Ivy Swolf
Written by
Ivy Swolf
   atlas, --- and ---
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