Jealousy rots me.
It stinks and burns into my throat.
Lays in my gut like raw,undercooked chicken.
I didn't have to,didn't want to know everything.
Tact.
and yes,we are all guilty of dropping the unnecessary at the beginning.
The creeping truth,
the past.
Haunting us,
mocking,especially when we are most tired and run down.
Slithering up my windpipe.
Sinking barbs into my esophagus.
And all those that came before,
all that lay with you,
taking with them notches of the heart that i will take as mine.
Let the frigid hand of death
steal you in the night.
Saturday, 31 July 2010
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Were we separated at birth Alex?
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