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Grass (or what I can no longer touch)
how sweet and gentle
you once were to me
you held me in your kind ways
gently caressing my bare flesh
what a gorgeous sensation
your smell
like watermelon, but not quite
a crisp aroma unique to only you
your touch
a thousand gentle pokes from your gentle blades
The loveliest stab wounds
your sound
a symphony of wind flowing through you
making simple perfection of noise
your taste
like lemon and something else indescribable
to be honest i never really ate you
your look
a gorgeous emerald if there was enough water
a strong but rather pointy brown if there was not
i loved all of these things about you
but now when i am with you
i redden and itch
an invasion of angry pink bumps on my hands and legs
only areas where we once used to be able to hold one another
such joy and delight
stolen from me progressively over time
how i miss being with you
you are the breakup i never wanted
i wanted to hold on
but your gentle grasp would have slowly destroyed my skin
maybe your hold was worth it
the pain and scratch
were nothing but paper tigers
compared to the loss of you
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This piece was created because I was trying to come to terms with my developing allergy to grass, but in a way, it was also a way to cope with the loss of several of my friends to suicide. The lack of capitalization of the letter I is to help accentuate my feelings of ineptitude because I can no longer touch something that was once incredibly important to me.