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May 2013
Poison runs through my veins
infecting my blood turning it rotten.
Rotten as the corpse that was once your living, breathing body.

This poison is contagious. Once in your blood,
there is no cure except recluse.
Or a plague

A plague of words without meaning,
a smile without a feeling, and a human without a being.
Is this who i've become?

Myself a woman going into the black cave to save the masses.
I am no longer a woman, but a wretch.
With a heart that pumps the poison.

And the men see beauty and zeal
until they have a taste of poison,
which burns the tip of their tongue.

You are a *******.
*******; back for more?
And once the plague is spread...

I leave
and move to the next victim.
P Chartier
Written by
P Chartier  New York
(New York)   
831
     Riot and st64
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