Friday, September 17, 2010

Sew these hands
Over this mouth.
I can’t say another word.
No I’m sorry’s or question marks.
Its been proven to weaken me.
Leaves me panting,
Gasping for air,
As though I need for someone to
Save me
When really I just need someone to leave.

But you can’t.
My legs are wrapped around you like shackles
And my beauty deteriorates
With every attempt.

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