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				poem - 
            
          
		
		
				
		
				April 3rd 2015, 03:40 AM
			
			
			
		 
               
 This thread has been labeled as triggering by the original poster or by a Moderator. Please take this into consideration before continuing to read.  
 
I smell your hostility in the airand though I cannot catch it because it diffuses in my hand
 It takes up space
 It become more dominant as I become more withdrawn
 
 If only it was like poison ivy, I would rub it on my hands then touch you
 It would depart from the tip of my finger
 Arrive to the tip of yours and in an instant
 You'd see the pink irritation
 You'd feel the harshness of the rash
 Too bad you cannot see my clenched teeth, my locked jaws, or my stomach fit to burst
 
 You tell me to stop
 And I want to stop too.
 Kinda...
 If anything I want you to stop first
 Stop the torment
 Stop the picking on me and I'll stop picking on my skin
 Stop living inside of me
 Tightening your grip
 Till I gasp for air only to breathe your toxic once more
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