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May 2013
The warmth I once felt with you
Has changed
It grew and grew and grew
Into a flame.
Your touch became pain
A searing burn on my insides
Blistering inside me.
And after I knocked you down
Down to the floor
You left me for good
Taking everything
Except the sting you gave me.
And now I still cringe
When I think of you
For that death still stays.
But
Now I know
To keep the flame in check
To not bathe in the warmth
To not consume it
And
To let my Hot Pocket sit for two minutes before eating.
Written by
Pearce Haviland
410
     Lior Gavra and Jacob Traver
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