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"pathogen" poems
Violence is real and natural. Multidimensional, it exists in every form of life. Its visceral, it shears through the thickest ice, survives the coldest vice and won't shatter when thrown from incredible hieghts. Violence is quick and unjust. It swiftly infects the blood then slowly turns a useful mind to rust, takes away all that someone is and replaces it with formaldehyde and sawdust, it wants to watch as the body succumbs to deaths lust. Violence is hard and true. It's an event, a car crash that forced a woman out of the windshield like a 12 gauge slug pumped straight into the heart of a child who's witnessed skin hanging from the hole his mother just went through. Violence is in the air like a pathogen, infecting us with an experience that executes our innocence, genocide, created from hate by that precious few. In one dimension or another, it's the backbone of every great nation and of all life, it's nothing new.
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 8:42 AM UTC
Violence
In winter this **** storm of a town falls to nothing but a low hum                  and it is a steady as it is wide spread And in only a matter of weeks, we forget what it is to breathe fresh air So we go through the motions of living in this assembly line kinda life The motions of laughing and breathing and crying and falling and loving And the influenza of seasonal depression is infectious so we wrap ourselves in coats and hats and scarves in hope of escaping the pathogen of loneliness that radiates through our stereos                                                                                     In winter, this town falls into hibernation the snow falls mercilessly, without anguish. tell me Were you awake when you first caught me, because I was still half-asleep when I found myself in your arms Were you awake when you first kissed me, because I was in a dream when my lips first met yours     But there was something in your electric touch that woke me                                                                                                                           And I remembered that snow melts
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
because I've tried writing this too many times.
creeping fingers, crawling hands, innocent at first-- innocent? not likely-- malicious more like. the purity of your polystyrene soul, the unremitting cleanse, the repent(the chase), it's your lifeline. the shocked look, saccharine power held over tiny fawn-- ****** clarity as they might, oh dear incubus. the power to end all held in tiny fists. this births not demon babes, but a century of fear and inadequacy. downy kittens hardwired with an inevitable self-destruct. bring the world to it's knees, incessant, indefatigable pathogen, taking grasp of neurons, synapses. good intentions yearned for the green light while yours-- red as the blood rose manifests in lovely lips for eternity stained with **** wine-- the wine you brewed, you fermented in the cellar of ********** and hatred. the father, the son, and the holy spirit, and the things that lie between. blessed fingers, blessed breath freezes as the stiff arms of your diocese. hushed catholic whisper, angels to never nearly achieve their wholly holy grail-- your kryptonite. secret looks, hasty deliverance, catharsis.
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Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
jump the carpathian rift
They claim I can lead, that they can look up to me. That in a time so bleak, it's nice to see someone so strong. I am a very weak person. I am fragile. My immune system is shot. Any passing pathogen is free to stir me up. My walls are cracked and peeling, they are a poor defense. I've lost control over my feelings, and nothing makes sense. The world ends every day, yet, I remain in tact. I'm a cockroach scuttling through the motions, taking orders from rats. No one seems to think about the life of the insect, that putrid little pest, After the fact... After the blast, conflict is presumed to have passed, But life is not as we're taught it is in History class. Sure, I can survive; I've gotten by. Haven't I prevailed over all of the ants and all of the flies? Still, I wonder why... Why? wonder...why? I don't feel like I've tried? At points on the line I thought I had died, or at least wasted my life. Still, I stand here, watching the others pass by. Expressionless faces filled with blood that's run dry. The only reason I'm not floating on is because my hands were not tied. I'd have drowned with the rest of them if it weren't for where I lie. The ground on which I was born is comparatively high, Though the guilt instilled upon me is pushing me lower to the scene of the crime. Their lungs filled with water, Mine with wasted time. With feet barely wet, and my knees still dry, the guilt presses harder...but I still haven't tried. If I am strong, then this world must be wrong. Oh, so wrong. And for how long? How long must a man pretend to be a king when he is Kong? My legs trembling...twitching...I can barely move. I've been broken, burned, battered, and bruised. Don't look up to me as if I peer down on you. My friends, my enemies, you're all becoming confused. If it is my help you seek, I'm sorry, you fool. Can you not see? I am no better than you.
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Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
Not Greater Than, Nor Equal To
They claim I can lead, that they can look up to me. That in a time so bleak, it's nice to see someone so strong. I am a very weak person. I am fragile. My immune system is shot. Any passing pathogen is free to stir me up. My walls are cracked and peeling, they are a poor defense. I've lost control over my feelings, and nothing makes sense. The world ends every day, yet, I remain in tact. I'm a cockroach scuttling through the motions, taking orders from rats. No one seems to think about the life of the insect, that putrid little pest, After the fact... After the blast, conflict is presumed to have passed, But life is not as we're taught it is in History class. Sure, I can survive; I've gotten by. Haven't I prevailed over all of the ants and all of the flies? Still, I wonder why... Why? wonder...why? I don't feel like I've tried? At points on the line I thought I had died, or at least wasted my life. Still, I stand here, watching the others pass by. Expressionless faces filled with blood that's run dry. The only reason I'm not floating on is because my hands were not tied. I'd have drowned with the rest of them if it weren't for where I lie. The ground on which I was born is comparatively high, Though the guilt instilled upon me is pushing me lower to the scene of the crime. Their lungs filled with water, Mine with wasted time. With feet barely wet, and my knees still dry, the guilt presses harder...but I still haven't tried. If I am strong, then this world must be wrong. Oh, so wrong. And for how long? How long must a man pretend to be a king when he is Kong? My legs trembling...twitching...I can barely move. I've been broken, burned, battered, and bruised. Don't look up to me as if I peer down on you. My friends, my enemies, you're all becoming confused. If it is my help you seek, I'm sorry, you fool. Can you not see? I am no better than you.
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37
pain spreads like a pandemic, infecting even the kindest of us. sadness is a painful bruise evident on the surface of our skin. we wear emptiness like it is the latest fashion trend. the contagion spreads through our word; it reaches the depths of our hearts. during times like these, we ask God, "where are you?" only to be met with a cold silence. our own twenty-first century plague. we are the rats that carry the virus. the few of us appear who asymptomatic eventually succumb to the pathogen. we overdose on pills and drown ourselves in alcohol to escape pain only to learn that it is inexorable. our words are pernicious and our actions are even more so. we create a false image of unity in the light of unfavorable times, which seem to come more frequently than in the past. we hold each others hands and hold our own tongues hoping that submitting to our government will save us this time. we are wrong, but we choose again and again to hide from the perilous truth; we are not safe from each other or from ourselves. any detriment that we suffer is entirely deserving.
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Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 3:36 PM UTC
twenty-first century plague
We began with little mutations, Harmless, or more so beneficial, We adapted to our love, With no methods of dispersal, People thought we couldn’t get any closer, But your behaviors changed and we began to isolate, We were stabilized so I hoped for fusion, But realized that overtime not even reinforcement could’ve helped, We had our Kingdom set up, And later we fell into a “Family”, But you classified me too general, Now I don’t know where I belong, My feelings for you were like the Cambrian, Sadly enough they became a catastrophe, You started selecting, Seeing me as worthless, But I knew I am not one to select, You looked at me like you’ve studied Phylogenetics, I was at the most top, But ended up at the bottom, You were not natural, but neither was I, What did our selections favor? And our relationship turned into cloud and dust, Sadly it collapsed, And you left me imprints of lies and hurt, And words preserved inside me like a cast, You ingested away my feelings, I was the pili so attached to you, But you were an endospore resisting all of me, You no longer knew what feelings were, And to you, I was an annual, Got replaced so quickly, But I shed tears where the oceans have formed, And supported you like the roots of trees, But you were a virus, A pathogen, A parasite, And I was the host, Blinded by your toxins, And my cells swelled in favor of you, You offered me and I gladly took, I thought I was an obligate, Surviving off of you, But I was too mindless to see the real you, And I was like the Archaea, Survived the harshest paths for you, But with a single expression you crushed my world, And like a Zygomycota you’ve molded our love away, And sadly enough I couldn’t evolve, With pain feeling like spikes inside, I am no longer the magistrate of love, And love is my killer.
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
Permutations
We began with little mutations, Harmless, or more so beneficial, We adapted to our love, With no methods of dispersal, People thought we couldn’t get any closer, But your behaviors changed and we began to isolate, We were stabilized so I hoped for fusion, But realized that overtime not even reinforcement could’ve helped, We had our Kingdom set up, And later we fell into a “Family”, But you classified me too general, Now I don’t know where I belong, My feelings for you were like the Cambrian, Sadly enough they became a catastrophe, You started selecting, Seeing me as worthless, But I knew I am not one to select, You looked at me like you’ve studied Phylogenetics, I was at the most top, But ended up at the bottom, You were not natural, but neither was I, What did our selections favor? And our relationship turned into cloud and dust, Sadly it collapsed, And you left me imprints of lies and hurt, And words preserved inside me like a cast, You ingested away my feelings, I was the pili so attached to you, But you were an endospore resisting all of me, You no longer knew what feelings were, And to you, I was an annual, Got replaced so quickly, But I shed tears where the oceans have formed, And supported you like the roots of trees, But you were a virus, A pathogen, A parasite, And I was the host, Blinded by your toxins, And my cells swelled in favor of you, You offered me and I gladly took, I thought I was an obligate, Surviving off of you, But I was too mindless to see the real you, And I was like the Archaea, Survived the harshest paths for you, But with a single expression you crushed my world, And like a Zygomycota you’ve molded our love away, And sadly enough I couldn’t evolve, With pain feeling like spikes inside, I am no longer the magistrate of love, And love is my killer.
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52
I enjoyed the work I did, 'cause those bearded-guys were some serious ******** constructing high explosives & placing them near roadsides, then detonating them for maximum carnage, to spill some serious blood. Oh how I loved working at night, especially those overcast nights where I drew beads with nightvision & did some exploding of my own, busted a lot of skulls. Ya see, I could be a serious ******* too. And I was serious, as serious as cancer. I was the consummate silent killer, so effective, they called me "Mister Pathogen ** & death I did spread.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
As Serious As Death (Mister Pathogen **
Love takes time Time to tear down The false Gods Polluting ambitious minds Love at first sight A dangerous ideological pathogen Killing the truth in patience and effort Ignorant to fleeting feelings of vulnerability Love is surrounded by a toxic cloud Breeding unhappiness and failed expectations Quarantine zone and hazmat suits A requirement for the truth about love
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC
CDC Love Affair
O my darling patient, I want to be your disease, make you break out in a sweat, heat your blood to a high fever, make you flood slick ****** fluids, itch your pretty skin with desire. O please my darling patient, let me inject you with my serum, it's a special antidote meant to make you feel better, get wetter than wet.
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
I Am Your Private Pathogen & Your Antidote, Too
It starts with a thought, And you think almost nothing of it There's poison working it way From your brain to your heart Pumping black blood Through your veins By the time you bleed, It will be too late She's not the cure, She is the strain. And you feel it in your bones It won't leave you alone And you chase the only escape From the constant pain And you love every sick second All the terror and the tension So you've got this nervous tick And you just can't control it That's her working on your last nerve She's flirting with disaster Her love like a pathogen, By the time you have any symptoms You'll have one foot in the gave She's not the cure, She is the strain. And you feel it in your bones It won't leave you alone And you chase the only escape From the constant pain And you love every sick second All the terror and the tension
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Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
The Strain
When I was a child I would walk into the forest, and wonder how so many things could remain untouched and unsullied by humanitys outstretched hands. "They must want to." I'd think, but there must be strong magic here to pervert those tendencies. I didn't feel it then, or maybe didn't understand what I was feeling. When I was a young man I would walk into the forest and wonder how ancient the universe was, thinking, "It must be a wise and thoughtful entity, that preserves such places." Some great magnitism that holds these places together. And maybe magnitism is some sort of preventative magic, or last resort contigency, when things grow too desperate, or too important to lose. When I was an adult I would walk into the forest and wonder why I didn't come here more often. The poison of modern humanity had settled deep in my vessel, unwilling or unable to reverse the natural course of the pathogen of time. Alarmed, I sat thinking, "Maybe the magic here now works against me." When I was an old man I would walk into the forest and wonder how many more times I could come back here, before the void reclaimed the energy spent on my creation. It was a simple price we all paid for the time we've borrowed. And all at once, I didn't have to wonder why the magic hadn't faltered on its duty in preserving these ancient woodlands. Because I knew then, that I too would soon become part of this magic. -Kevin James
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Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Contingency
I'm not a seer to have looked into the future, I'm surely a man with the intention of diamond, I'm definitely going to marry you some years later. I'm not a pathogen to have blighted you here, I'm surely a super-crazy lover of yours lovingly, I'm definitely coming to elegant city of yours soon.
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
Hopefully Yours!
Rarebit fiend with an insatiable appetite zapped internally ******* off wi-fi looking for hideouts and new gold wings the brilliant glow through a transom window summons him feeds on the sleeping man programming him into a pathogen
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Mar 13, 2024
Mar 13, 2024 at 2:38 PM UTC
Mosquito Joe
Inclination is a contagion          that affects the cerebral cortex. Infecting other organs in a complex                                 method of defilement. Once one has succumb to the influence              of this pathogen, the following                                  is woeful in its method 1. Heart rates do palpitate to an extreme beat 2. Part of mind isn't playing on the same spreadsheet. 3. All reactions of thought & heart aren't as discrete. 4. AWOL are the rationalities within every heartbeat. But still those who fall foul of this moment,                            do not wish for a cure even though out of ten three prove semi-fatal for a time to these organs.             They still live,                        but singular,                              alone,                                 desolate                 o­f what made them in pain. But they will once again look for one who is a carrier,                         to be once again infected by this moment..                          I must confess that I have fell foul,                and my clock ticks with not one                       but another beat.. Infection isn't as bad as I once believed.                 I just hope that I contaminate her                 life with more than she infected me.
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Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
There Is No Antidote
Inclination is a contagion          that affects the cerebral cortex. Infecting other organs in a complex                                 method of defilement. Once one has succumb to the influence              of this pathogen, the following                                  is woeful in its method 1. Heart rates do palpitate to an extreme beat 2. Part of mind isn't playing on the same spreadsheet. 3. All reactions of thought & heart aren't as discrete. 4. AWOL are the rationalities within every heartbeat. But still those who fall foul of this moment,                            do not wish for a cure even though out of ten three prove semi-fatal for a time to these organs.             They still live,                        but singular,                              alone,                                 desolate                 o­f what made them in pain. But they will once again look for one who is a carrier,                         to be once again infected by this moment..                          I must confess that I have fell foul,                and my clock ticks with not one                       but another beat.. Infection isn't as bad as I once believed.                 I just hope that I contaminate her                 life with more than she infected me.
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27
What's going on with me What's this body What's this head Old personality's dead Got stuck up in being you And now were through What's going on with you What is this anyways There's reflections of coffins In your eyes The medallion you wear reminds me of the wolf in your heart Grizzly with passion Will push anything aside That beautiful anger you've bred I breathe you in But you're an airborne pathogen I take you in under my skin It's the only way I could let you in You may be no good for me But that's something I don't talk about It belongs to a list of things I don't want to see You're an Idol to me You make me bend at the knees The most beautiful of chemistries
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
What is chemistry?
allow me to apologize on behalf of the love i bear for you the love I’ve left behind the moon behind the earth within a shadow in an umbra and hidden from the sun i want these whispers to escape from the person i have buried in a folded blanket in the dust in a fissure of a scar within my heart i’ve been defeated by my own fears and self-resentment festers in my consequential wounds a gangrenous pathogen threatening to mortify what, i don’t know for i’ve kept my eyes closed and my soul at a distance but every morning as i try to go to sleep in spite of the sun rising above i think of me as if i was not myself and I think of you and the things i should’ve done i think of how you looked right through my painted face and when i met your eyes how my blind-fold fell away less than a memory i think of these moments and remember that i once knew the meaning of peace
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Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
penumbra
In the same day and it is just like I realize this is really totally stone cold insensitive to be rooted out like a pathogen when in reality the entire place is sick and I'm only an observer
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Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
He said you were great and then he fired me
Night falls in parking lot emptied of cars, crisp air and not a pathogen in sight Breathe out
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Dec 28, 2021
Dec 28, 2021 at 3:08 AM UTC
Cinquain #22
Borrowed from broken blood i live the nights, feeling each molecule pass lost in a wave in a haze I Care About You Sleeping in our Place I waited for you to be only together, you have a face that reminds me of peace and soli-dude and death how did I find you in a word that means nothing empty car; pathogen in a word of fret 7 11 sleeping on mattrasses
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
When the sun hits part II
Crown of love My sincere love for you is your crown, my concern for you is your throne. You are all that I want in this life. I am obsessed with love for you, I worship and bow before your beauty. Your beauty is so ****** innocent, primordial, unique, so majestic and beautiful. From your kisses you feel alive, you feel love itself, its powerful energy in its true form. Exotic, tropical, heavenly beautiful, elite, aristocratic, incredibly beautiful beauty, like a descending goddess from the highest universes of dimensions. You are beautiful, as in the distance so close, you can look at you forever, and I get great pleasure from the fact that I'm with you, I eagerly tasted every moment spent with you. The light so beautifully illuminates your sweet, hot skin. When I see you, I have an unbelievable feeling of joy, love, happiness, excitement, I am happy as a child. The more you look at, the more you fall in love. You amaze to the depths of your soul with your amazing beauty. Gorgeous, luxurious, **** divinely beautiful, sexually attractive. The sweetest candy in the world, the sweetest temptation, juicier than the sweetest fruit in the world, richer nowhere, sweeter just does not happen, it is impossible to imagine yourself more beautiful. You are the most powerful magnet in the world of temptation, a very powerful pathogen. You are the perfect perfect creation of all universes, dimensions, worlds, you are like the highest, most powerful ****** of admiration and pleasure. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
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Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 11:15 AM UTC
Crown of love
Crown of love My sincere love for you is your crown, my concern for you is your throne. You are all that I want in this life. I am obsessed with love for you, I worship and bow before your beauty. Your beauty is so ****** innocent, primordial, unique, so majestic and beautiful. From your kisses you feel alive, you feel love itself, its powerful energy in its true form. Exotic, tropical, heavenly beautiful, elite, aristocratic, incredibly beautiful beauty, like a descending goddess from the highest universes of dimensions. You are beautiful, as in the distance so close, you can look at you forever, and I get great pleasure from the fact that I'm with you, I eagerly tasted every moment spent with you. The light so beautifully illuminates your sweet, hot skin. When I see you, I have an unbelievable feeling of joy, love, happiness, excitement, I am happy as a child. The more you look at, the more you fall in love. You amaze to the depths of your soul with your amazing beauty. Gorgeous, luxurious, **** divinely beautiful, sexually attractive. The sweetest candy in the world, the sweetest temptation, juicier than the sweetest fruit in the world, richer nowhere, sweeter just does not happen, it is impossible to imagine yourself more beautiful. You are the most powerful magnet in the world of temptation, a very powerful pathogen. You are the perfect perfect creation of all universes, dimensions, worlds, you are like the highest, most powerful ****** of admiration and pleasure. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
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6
Life and death breathe in my state of immunity death brings fate to calamity wisdom is outstandind it makes you stand our from the crowd exceedingly , I forbid but the dark still proceed I just wana dwell in the ark and suceed am a seed rooted beside the see of greatness and recrouted prosperity My heart pumps twice for winter and summer for ****** and osama B or martin luther choose what you wana breath detect and eject any pathogen that might bring a disease What does your heart concieve as it proceeds to pump use both eyes to see but if one misleads you its better to receive life in one view than to swallow a nife and never go trough
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
life and death
After a lifetime spent Bent On rounding off the corners Of any square thought Has brought Me... Full circle So many times I'm beginning to see winning as an abstract A pathogen Getting stronger As if the the efforts I produce The patient's I'm rewarded with As I have achieved success Like penicillin Only has a limited lifespan And an exponential inconsequential Failure rate That soon begins to insulate As the mutated corners Become mutant appendages As  they grow back Not abstract Simply as a fact There just seems to me That too many people Just want to be dragged along Creating heat sparks and friction Like an addiction Instead of letting it all roll And it's taking a toll On the faith In my soul Knowing that a lifetime Bent on rounding off the corners Of any square thought Has brought me.. . .... full circle
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Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
Squaring up while I'm still round
My blood is a toxin I am a walking bio-hazard I just can't seem to win Many have despised and feared Me for what I am I am a biological weapon A deadly pathogen When I die, so shall millions of others Mothers Sons Sisters Brothers Fathers Daughters Society rejects me And for their safety I dare not bleed For if I do, the toxin will cause death and misery For each drop is a seed For the death that flows through my veins And what my skin inside contains Is a plague so terrifying That I can already feel everyone around me dying And others in fear they are crying So all I'll do is be secluded and behave Or risk sending the world to its grave
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
Toxin