this is not a poem about lost friendships

I drink pink grapefruit flavored drinks my face smells like the citrus when I lose things and people I change my hair it helps me cope with the idea that I can never finish a stick of lip balm and most of the people I've known only yield disappointment no one is at fault here but the blame is usually pushed into my intestines and I spend five days throwing up I used to be afraid that I would never see the entire world now I'm afraid I'll never spend enough time in a place I can call home every morning the smell of grapefruit grows stronger

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