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May 2019
The beer goes down and ruins the stomach,
And the insides bleed for eternity.
So what now?

     It is said that when youth drowns
The pretty angels disappear
And solitude becomes our God.

     We stare at white walls for days,
never seeing the end.

     Making chessboards out of ancient pizza boxes,
We defend against the invasion,
The chemical heroes,
With the ****** up childhood
And family full of rapists.

     I used to be world class with my musicianship,
And my daydreams use to come to life,
And I would drink whiskey early in the morning,
Before tending to my slavery.
I would ***** acid,
I would inhale everything,
I would make my mother scream,
“Stop pretending to be a GOD!” She would say.
“Leave me alone,” I would say.
Still drunk, or sick.
A real hero.
Royce
Written by
Royce  29/M/Canada
(29/M/Canada)   
127
   BR Dragos
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