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Jan 2013
Your eyes were red, as if you had coloured them with a crayon,
And they gazed into mine with such intensity that 
I felt I couldn't look away.
Words spilled apathetically from your drowsy lips,
And they crept all around the room, filling my nose
With the smell of mischief, and my ears with the sound of defeat.
You were hallucinogenic, and morbid, and giddy, all at once.
And you leaned down towards my ear, laughing 
At your own clumsy delirium. Your lips tickled my skin as you spoke,
And your words filled my heart with an aching sensation of hysteria.
You leaned down and murmured,
"I hate when people whisper sweet nothings to me."
Sierra Collins
Written by
Sierra Collins
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