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Rebecca Smith
Poems
Jan 2016
Untitled
My sheets still smell like you.
The nicotine clings to it like glue.
Still here, where you left this deep, gaping hole.
The poison of your lies, the poison of your soul.
Through your eyes, I spotted our demise.
Fake smile, fake words, everything is lies.
Faking everything just to get what you wanted,
Now I'm stuck here, feeling haunted.
Written by
Rebecca Smith
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