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Mar 2013
I’m withering from lack
Of your touch
From sudden withdrawal
Of your sunshine caress.
My skin is under
Solitary confinement
And you are far,
Far, far away.

In the darkness
I scrape the edges
Trying to find
A part of me.
A part of me
That doesn’t
Need your hand,
Need your touch

Tearing, scraping
Cutting away the fine lines
Until the rips
Become kisses
The cuts
Become caresses
The razor
Replacing you.
Tess
Written by
Tess  Virginia
(Virginia)   
471
   st64
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