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I follow, you walk on.

You are creating a liminal space.
I'm breaking my way into boundaries,  
while you erect more walls.  
Why do you flee,
when the wall at the tip of your tongue
 perfectly sinks behind my molars?
 And your drunk eyes,  
my first vicious thought
 every morning.
We are trying to bisect ourselves,  
slowly becoming unbecoming.
heyycyanides
Written by heyycyanides (Joa)
Published
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