Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


I hated the way his arm touched me.
After absences that stretched on for days,
His touch turned to poison
And I felt diseased with every brush.

His words would kill my heart,
When he uttered them.
They were full of meaning,
And I dismissed them all.

I bristle when he says my name,
And I try to avert my gaze
When he looks over to me, like one
Look from him can seal the wounds.

I seldom talk to him, as we walk
Side by side, making idle chit chat.
I decided long ago to give him up, but
Like all addictions, he can tumbling back.

One thing that thaws me whenever he's near,
Are his tears and the traces they make down his face.
I'd rather rip his heart out, squeeze the blood
From it but instead, I put my hand in his.


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