Thursday, 1 July 2010


Their points tiptoe across

The surface of his skin,

Poking holes therein,

Leaving his body in distress.

Their burning stab still slays,

When he tightens his eyes,

Their bite draws weak cries,

It's forever like that. Always.

He accepts their poisoned sting,

The needles dig deeper,

Reminding him of her,

That, in truth, she is everything.

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