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Jun 2014
Your mouth
Reminds me of a pus spewing wound
Building poison pressure bursts to the surface
Erupting a hot flood of thick green infection
Splattering over everyone you touch
Like volcanic bile.

Your words
Are an ill smelling fungus
A sick compilation
Of every hateful thought
Infesting your heart
Like a sac of wormy toadstools

Your life
Is a blame game
A who to maim game
Projecting fault
Verbal assault
Destruction the goal
Of your cold blackened soul
Cynthia Thompson
Written by
Cynthia Thompson  Massachusetts
(Massachusetts)   
961
   Benny Into, ---, --- and ---
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