April 9, 2013
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Drowning in sheer cynicism
Your maple syrup tongue
Smothers me in false affection
I gasp, grasping on to solitude
My lungs only fill with oxygen
When able to inhale in isolation
The placid lake of my sanity ripples
With the effects of your sentiments
Sending ringlets writhing
A final weeping bubble surfaces
The sorry remnant of a daughter
Gone under

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