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Don’t Touch

oh she looked like a disaster
the kind that swept you off your teeth
but something wasnt right
her eyes were the color of saffron sad
she bled
she was a doll trap
beauty infected
baby rejected
those lips laced with laudanum
her fingers x-ing out itemized lovers
she knew where to draw the line
chest bloom
her flowers are dripping puss
and delicate sinister perfume
roulette cocked and loaded
she pulled and her life imploded
bad luck betty
now she runs the leprosy kissing booth
leaving pock marks on her patrons
dont touch her
dont touch her

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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