The way your calloused hands wrapped around my neck and crushed my windpipe was pure ecstasy.
The way your mouth found its way to the canyons of my collar bones made me weak and I am absolutely certain that the amount of tension that built in my core could destroy galaxies.
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Academy Of American Bullshit
PoetryCollection of poetry, parts of short stories, and the occasional rant written by an artist who is angrier than she'd like to admit.