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You're Metaphoric This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

Your lips are an oaky red wine,
And I won't have another sip of alcohol in my life
(If I can help it).

Your touch is acid rain,
And I'm a brick building in New York,
Slowly disintegrating with every drop.

Your eyes are the ocean on a foggy day
That I no longer wish to swim in
Since what happened on June 20th, 1975.

You're the flame of a campfire,
Burning my roasting marshmallow
(And people wonder why I don't like s'mores anymore).

You're all the stupid metaphors I come up with,
Trying to make my poems seem like
romantic comedies,
But I'm no Reese Witherspoon,
And this isn't Sweet Home Alabama.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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