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Nov 2015
Laying here,
In my bed, while visions of you flow like liquid through my head.
I caress my skin, like I imagine you would do,
but how could someone ever love me like you?
I feel the hurt in my gut begin to form,
Bubbling and oozing inside of me like a storm.
When it subsides, I hope I'm no longer.
No longer than a mere' regret.
I hope you get what you get.
Laying here in my bed, holding this razor in my hand,
Here I go.. Into velvet oblivion.
The last poem of a hopeless lover.
Tonya Cusick
Written by
Tonya Cusick  23/F/Joplin, mo
(23/F/Joplin, mo)   
293
 
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