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Poetry » Life » Mint font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: fictitious facades
Fiction Rated: T - English - Poetry - Published: 01-16-08 - Updated: 01-16-08 - id:2463600
cutting your upper arm,

it tastes like mints.

that stinging, clean feeling.

and i love it.

you can only slice your

wrist for so long.

eventually it gets too full.

then you move higher.

thats where the beauty starts,

and the mint,

and the real satisfaction,

and the real fix.



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