Free Poetry Contest
Marie's Journal \
Desperation slides off of you.
Oozes, really like a septic stink
that hovers low in the air.
It wraps around me, vise-like
and tightly nauseating.
And all I want now
is for you to leave,
and take that smell with you.
The one that reeks of rotten love
spoiled by a rage I never understood
and will no longer tolerate.
Why make this hard?
Don''t bleed your love over me,
unwanted and sticky.
I have no energy for more mess,
and I don''t feel like cleaning up.
By indigo_marie On 9/19/2011 1:18:57 PM
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