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Aug 2014 · 814
Perfection disorder
Iffah Arifin Aug 2014
The sky is still blue,
Your cheeks painted them with tints of red,
Your soul trapped in the hearts of addiction,
With every dust you inhale kills you inside,
Your mind dreams of what freedom would cause,
Though here you are sitting on your throne diminishing in cake,
Because nobody's perfect.

— The End —