FACT: Loving someone who hates themselves is like smoking a cigarette. The same as crawling through a dark, wet cave. Breathing becomes harder. It smolders and suffocates your insides. A sort of private ferocity dripping in the veins.
Poetry
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I can definitely see the first sentence as a line from a slam poem. Imagine hearing that sentence aloud– Such an intensity!
Suggestion:
-Would you like to make a slam poem out of this piece? Absolutely plausible!
Would love to read a different version of this!
Take care!
Michelle R.