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112.8

it rubs the lotion on its skin

its sickly, rolling skin

my skin --

twitching with multiplication --

the cells dividing continuously

 

bubbling --

double, double, toil and trouble

with the ripples and waves

of a hurricanic ocean

cascading down ill fitting rocks

to crash in the flexible, formable underbelly

 

i will carve each digit into my skin

scar my failure into the surface

reminiscent of my tumble to the bottom

burning the memories into my flesh

never forget, never repeat

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Written by
paige-elliott
American
Published
May 1, 2013
Lines·Words
16·81
Permission

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