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Oct 2017
A *** and coke
On a Sunday evening.
The perfect prize
For a vacation I'm paying for.

My first drink runs through me
Like blood does
But I still remember the dates
Like tattoos in my eyelids.
Images and memories I could never unsee.

A therapy session with an empty chair beside me.
Begging for somebody.
The headache wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
Written by
b  20/M/canada
(20/M/canada)   
336
     camps, alex, JoshuaHaines and Lex
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