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Sep 2011
Savlon is the smell of her sanity.
It scares the demons, they leave her be.

The screaming and crying,
The thoughts of her death,
The slowing of heart-rate
And then her last breath.

It's just disinfectant,
A cream for the ill.
She thinks of what else,
Or who else it could ****.

The blue and the white,
These colours are sane.
They clear away smoke,
And soothe her sore brain.

Savlon is the smell of her sanity.
The demons are gone, but now it's all me.
Marguerite Christine
611
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