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Oct 2018
My eyes are
burnt.
I don't pray
to those
few
high school gods.
I betray the
teachings of my mother.
I pull out of
my pocket
a pack of cigarettes.
my silence is
lost.
I talk like antibiotics,
but
tell me
can I still feast in an abnormal modesty?


-Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Written by
Samar Charulingah Godfrey  24/M/Slaughter House
(24/M/Slaughter House)   
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