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Antidote
I started to ponder the idea that maybe you're the antidote. And yet perhaps you're just another poison that lingers on my skin, causing my fingertips to yearn for your warm hands to take a hold of mine just one more time. All I know is that I'm starting to forget the way my skin ached and seemed to rot in all the places he touched, and I'm starting to remember why I meant it when I said that I would wait for you forever.
By Hannah Mendenhall8 years ago in Poets











