The first poem in a poetry portfolio for fall 2008:

A mosquito sucks the blood from my very core.
The needle pricks into my heart
And you take the red juice that I thought was ours.
You, satisfied leech, swerve off gorged and untouched
As I bleed until my very soul runs dry.
I am left with your fatal disease.
I am left with the remains of myself.
Created: 15 September 2008
This poem is crap, but I figured I’d put it in so that you, dear reader, can read the response and sort of see what I’m doing… Ya…

May 30, 2009. Uncategorized.

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