My Love

November 13, 2017
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I love him,
I hate him.
I hate that I love him.

But love is love.
My love for him is a fire,
And fire is dangerous.

I can smell him, like danger waiting to happen.
I taste him, bittersweet with a bad aftertaste.
I touch him, like spikes on my hand.

I feel weak for him.

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