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A poem about a fear of the dark.


Submitted:Aug 19, 2012    Reads: 5    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I like the way my eyes will sting

when I keep myself awake.

I like the way my mouth goes dry

while chewing on escape.

I like the way my basement crawls,

the scratching at my door.

I like the dark that chokes on me,

the fire for my floor-

the eyes that always see...

I like the emptiness in here

and what becomes of me.





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