Red Boxes, Silver Bullets

A Poem by Brittany

we teeter down

cotton-mouth trails

our tongues shriveled tissues we

desperately clutch, in case

urges to cry or moan

beat us both

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A gasping sort of poem... jus how I feel now... hot and urgent... I liked it

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Added on July 18, 2010
Last Updated on July 18, 2010

I don't know me. And, you don't know you. We fit so good together 'cause I know you like I know myself. more..

Just Before You Go