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Ryan M Hall
Poems
Dec 2019
21
The party is over.
The guests have all left.
Stumble to the bathroom,
a pit stop before bed.
Your stomach flows over.
Youβre retching up a mess.
Laying in the menβs room,
wishing you were dead.
Everyone remembers their 21st, or at least some of it. Wrote this over a year ago. Just found it now.
Written by
Ryan M Hall
23/M/Davis, CA
(23/M/Davis, CA)
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