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Feb 2014
I suppose the records on your wall
Clash with my destructive habits
And the lopsided smile on your face
Disagrees with my nervous antics.

The red hot burning in your head
Repels my clenched fists
And your frequent shift of thought
Catalyzes my weak-willed fits.

Though I know we could agree
That you only regret the poison
Once it's burning your throat.
Kaitlyn
Written by
Kaitlyn
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