Haunted

These memories haunt me
Of you locking your gaze upon me
Of my breath squeezing the way through my throat with every passing minute your ‘shiners’ bathe me
Having the width of my eyeballs increased
Is not the way I intended to spend the night

As I am dying this slow death
Your hands tighten around my brick shoulders,
Smothering the hope I have
To one day soon wave away my follies of the heart

Never once did it have a good outcome
Compassion and poison within one sentence

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