Awkwardness
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engrossed while guarded
squirming through smiles
we peddle concrete lies,
unload them on the plate.
words drop stillborn
like some laughable miscarriage.
practicing risk analysis
You give me butterflies in my stomach,
Sometimes there's so many I feel I need to vomit.
You smell like a childhood memory,
I'm not sure which one- it all gets so blurry.
