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A feeling

Stay out of my dreams
Butterflies, Chills.
A feeling that makes me hot all over,
An anger that constantly builds.

I hope you walk under a ladder
Or a black cat crosses your path
I hope you break a mirror and watch your hard face
in the cold glass.

As I answer more phone calls
On my silent telephone
I'll use the wire to wrap me up,
So I won't feel alone.

Hold me tightly,
tighter until,
I'm blue as the ocean and my body runs still.

Butterflies and chills,
That's all it took,
To make me feel this way.

And while I cry
You're just fine
I'll just watch you play.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Explicit Content



the sorrow, regret and animosity written into this poem punches the reader in the gut! good title, too.

*hugs, Cat

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And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

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