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Jun 2018
The lacy touch of your fingers upon my *******
The soft touch of your smooth lips upon mine
Now lay between the empty bed sheets
Stained with time
The spilt tears
The endless fears
The lacy touch of your fingers upon her *******
The soft touch of your smooth lips against her hips
Now lay covered under the fresh bed sheets
Stained with your crime
Was I nothing more but a doll to play with?
Some sort of toy that you could just dispose of as time went on?
I looked into your eyes
I thought I saw your soul
Now I hope that she can see the truth;
You pick us out at random like a raffle ticket
And if the prize you receive does not please you

Then the exchange shall be soon
emmie cosgrove
Written by
emmie cosgrove  20/Gender Fluid/London
(20/Gender Fluid/London)   
  357
     Benjamin, George, Fawn, Mark Tilford and Edmund black
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