poem: grim reaper

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when i breathe
i burn and when i scream i collapse like a matchstick house 

roses on my tongue
thorns for teeth
and hands that can do no good. hands that reek of my untimely demise and
choked the life out of the girl that spit sunshine in the face of misery.

say, l o v e r –

do you smell grief on my breath
when you kiss me?

– t. bennett

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