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In Part.

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I feel the madness,
Consuming my breath like fog-
He oozes in depth through my pores.
Sinking stalk fingers into my brain.
His ambience is a narcotic, an addiction.
Sunk inside this cavity that isnt mine.
He leaves his crust like leftover pie on my face.
My existence is nothing without it.  

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I really enjoyed the rawness in this poem... thx

wickedwahine_69
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