Addiction =/= self loathing (Short poem)
I love the one I hate the most,
shove emotions back and forth.
Haunting past a different ghost,
sip a drink, then have a toast.
It's not my first, and not my last,
shifting through this mound of grass.
Life is long but not so vast,
why am I the one to last?
Twitching, bitching, lots of itching,
missing kissing? Wishful thinking...
Hissing, drizzling, fill the cup,
kill the feeling: bottoms up!
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I'm not a slave for entertainment, I'm entertainments personal slave,
So deep into writing I'm concerned bout the text on my grave.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gV8ozGcGJ6o
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