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melancholy
Poems
Aug 2020
gripped.
You grab ahold
I push
I claw.
Words fly from my lips
Like poisoned darts.
They'll cut you open
They'll rub you raw.
You spit my venom
Right back at me.
You squeeze my hand
Crush me with your grip.
All of a sudden
Something invisible
Stabs me.
A steely cold
Settles in my chest
Rather than blood
Hot tears drip.
#fight
#struggle
Written by
melancholy
F
(F)
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