Sunday, March 19, 2017

the smell of cold

What did they mean to me
And I, through loving them
Stopped believing in love
Their awkward attempts at existence 
Painful, slow, hurting
They smelled of cold
And unhappy was a tangible thing
Ammonia and a low living engery
Sweat that cooled us
In the way of sickness
I stopped believing in life the way I used to 
They said they'd break me
Show me how I was supposed to live

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