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The trans-former
Poems
Apr 2015
smoke
Nicotine-stained fingertips
Curl around a pen
A mouthful of hazy breath
Calling it my friend
Cross my heart and hope to die
I'll just stay in bed
What a lively suicide
Better than they said
Putrid stench I can't wash off
Follows me around
King of sorrow, Queen Aloof
Finally I'm crowned
#smoke
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Jordan
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