emotions spilled like coffee grounds
all over the walls, over our hearts
they seeped into our clothes
-and stained them-
with a liquid warmth trickling down
our faces were covered
in sugar and poison
the kind of combination we knew
would burn us, and maybe kill
-it was bad, but still good-
the kind of drug we needed
you were my lifeline
and i was yours
and if our power ever went out
then so would we,
and two more bodies would be burned
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YOU ARE READING
What's Wrong
Poetrysome of these might not make sense but trust me neither does my mind