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May 2016
kisses like chemicals poisoning my mind
hands like knives cutting my skin
every time you embrace me
I feel myself edging closer and closer to the afterlife
every time our lips meet
I stare straight into the eyes of my maker
whether it be God of Lucifer,
all depends on what words you whisper into my ear
K W
Written by
K W  Boston
(Boston)   
284
 
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