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Dec 2015
choke on a night terror right before the
sun finds your missing rib. soft as moth
wings, your lips part and honey spills
onto the bathroom floor. thunder never
apologizes for loving so loud so why
should I? my tongue is as heavy as your
head during your last nicotine buzz.
drowning is simpler than four-year-old
me would have believed, I think.
cassi
Written by
cassi
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