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Jun 2021
Every second your eyes meet my skin an inch melts off, melting until I am forced to turn away, so that my insides don't splatter on the marble floor.
One day I shall stop turning away, let you melt me.
For that at least will make your eyes stay for a second longer
on what can only be described as a tragedy.
Excerpt from a longer poem
Anna Maria
Written by
Anna Maria  16/F
(16/F)   
491
 
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