May 7, 2009
Hate is the smell of burning flesh,
In the rotting pits of hell
It is the taste of molding mushrooms,
Surrounded by worms,
In the moist dirt
Hate is the sound of dark whispering and
Painful screaming that fill a damp alleyway
It looks like everything you want that is set aflame
And turned to ash
It feels like a dull knife, digging deeper in your skin,
And only your blood’s warmth,
Dripping down your lips,
Comforts you.

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julian This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Sept. 3, 2009 at 1:19 pm
That's a pretty intense poem, but I like it quite a bit actually! Keep writing, because you're good at it!
If you can, take a look at my stuff too, thanks.
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