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Head Rush

The cig sits on my lips, heavy, dragging ghosts out of my chest like the moon drags teenagers from their places.

Brother, it's 1:30 AM, pull something important from that filter, you only live once, you know, and you don't want to waste another epoch so just take it, let it roll around between your cheeks, shedding minutes in the ashes, touch the gray with your tongue, don't be shy, you're with friends, freshly sauced and smelling good, so relax for a little while, watch the flare of another hour's choking; and Submit.



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