Monday, February 16, 2009

48

My eyes sting from the stench of the marker that I use to write those words of endearment to you that I know are lies but that I know I must write in order to convince you that I love you.
I would suck you dry before you realized what I had done, so blinded are you in your love for me. I am the parasite in your side, and I know it.

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