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May 2011
He's composed of a list of missed opportunities,
The unseen kid in a house in your community.
Trying to find solace in a room all alone,
Yet he can't keep his eyes from staring at the phone.

Another hollow body searching for human connection,
Got sidetracked in a whirlwind of misdirection.
He'd pick up if only there was someone on the line,
Friends, family, **** even the police would be fine.

The time ticks away like he has too much of it,
It's weighing him down, he's gonna get crushed to bits.

Take some. You look like you could use it.
Boil it down, shoot it up, and abuse it.
Cook it up, swallow it down, and consume it.
Put it down, throw it up, **** it.
Lose it.

Sometimes he feels like good will is dead,
And all that remains is a void in their head.
Eroded through time by people around them,
He feels himself turning into those that surround him.
Written by
anon
373
   Quinn Kaley
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