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december nineteenth

by Ava Blu

at 4am, I awake to a throat full of sand and tears, and it's becoming increasingly more difficult to just lay there beside you;
I won't fling insults your way, but I will open my mouth and kiss your lips in hopes this mud will seep back into your throat.


Author's Note: fuck you

Posted on 12/20/2008
Copyright © 2022 Ava Blu

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/20/08 at 02:06 PM

Sounds like they deserve it. I think this is the best of the December series so far. Sharp, vicious work.

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