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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1121588
The title comes from a Bright Eyes' song, Neely O'Hara.
The cold erupts from inside me,
sudden and by surprise.
I open my mouth and let it fall,
gushing, chilling my cheeks
with its sticky acid taste.
I gulp for air, fat drops falling with
splashes into the toilet, and each
breathe I steal tastes
like two spoonfuls of powdered sugar.
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