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Dec 2019
It goes past depression
Everything I own is broken.
And irreparable.

I smell of.
Mouldy.
Ash trays.

Failure and lowly things.
Filth.
Decay.

Let's forget we were ever.
Alive.

And.
Ignore.

Everything.
Written by
Nolan Bucsis  34/M/Somewhere in Canada
(34/M/Somewhere in Canada)   
118
   Lizzie
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