Stomach Quake - Poem by Grace Kippers
A symphony of acidic content
Poured down your throat to kill your nerve
Alcohol will be the death of me.
A collection of tags have been ripped off of hearts
It has been so easy to steal love from those who need it
Thirty phone calls a night
To different animals and people that bind your hands
Someday, you'll tell them all to leave
And then they'll bite their tongues, never will return.
Will you even miss the leash that kept you?
I would, I would.
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