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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1634815
Written during the last month of my dad's life (he passed on 11/22/09 of cancer).
You make me itch for death:
inanity,
discoloration of my heart.
Life handed you lemons
and you used my heart
to make lemonade.

I hope it's fucking sweet

You've sucked the life from me
through an invisible straw
you lubricated
with bitter guilt.

I am poison.
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