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Swallowed I feel like I'm being swallowed by your big, hairy, thick as a steak that you ate with your twice-baked potatoes that I cooked (yes I cooked) arms And I'm sick of (yes sick of) the white picket fence and the dog and the kids and the PTA meetings and the sex (yes even the sex) and the some assembly required life that we lead And I wish you'd let go (yes I wish you'd let go) and I want to be free no I need to be free and I feel like I'm being swallowed |
Additional Notes:
this is the first poem I ever wrote...almost seven years ago.
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