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Feb 2012
No I don’t want a kiss
A sickly formality
Nauseating to the stomach

I want to feel your rage
Intense, primal, magnificent
Oh the thrills I get to feel your fist upon my cheek

Your harsh words are music to my ears
Your jealousy is my source of power
Oh how i bask in it

Until the rooms a blurr
Until I can no longer see your face peculiar, twisted with rage
Until I can no longer feel the sensation of gushing blood from my nose

Finally, I can sleep
Sweet, unconscious, dreamless sleep
Drifting drifting content in the knowledge that you care
you are mine and i am yours.
Teagan
Written by
Teagan
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