sickness
Let it flow, from the source
like the ink from this pen
like this ink-stained confusion
it's happened, again
this mind ride speeds faster
shooots up, plunges down
this headache! it's
over.
you're so out of touch with reality; that you've never lived ; you're afraid to feel anything real, really.
I'm decided, Im going to despise you.
you'll


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