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Apr 2010
all hyped up
on a pedestal
(how do I get down?)
forget me baby...
         I'm no good.

everyone clamoring, crawling
desperate for my attention
         a whiff as I pass by
the breath before the kiss
slow releases of poison
permeating their being
i am essence of delusion
         acrimonious bedevilment
rolled over their temples
seeping into their veins
eating away at their cells
like a virus replicating and destroying
inducing mutations with a smirk
no containment
and to which there is no antidote
passing from one victim to the next
nonchalant and ruthless
on the prowl, half sleep
squashing beneath me
egos, hearts, lives.

next?
as I said -
forget me -
there is no love.
2007
Written by
Helen McKean  41/Cisgender Female/Philadelphia, PA
(41/Cisgender Female/Philadelphia, PA)   
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