My Disorder

March 4, 2010
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Oh sweet sickness.
Brush my lips with more desire
Then the kiss of my ultimate conquest.
Nestle yourself inside me
Ill coddle you as my own child.
Lay your bed to an unbearable standard
And curl up to sleep forever.
My illness, my disease,
My loving little curse.
Stay with me, keep me safe.
Look out from above me,
My sick angel.

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