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The air is thick with
Angst and cigar smoke
I'm stretching my God-given
Lighter fluid and
I can only imagine what happened
To the graveyards in their eyes
You're 15 and
Setting the scene:
A blood stain on the carpet and
Me, breaking like a slow burn
Nostalgia screams
At the words on my wall
Polaroids scattered
My mouth an ashtray
There I am
Inadequate, but
"High functioning"

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