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Abbey
Poems
Jul 2020
Juke
my throat is numb from smoke unfiltered
from borrowed squares to bodies considered
I am a night trick, a weekend witch
watch me curse them, watch them twitch
boys and girls both fall for the con
upon sunrise, the witch is gone
and in my wasteland, theyβll stay buried below
Iβll one day mourn,
when the daisies grow
Written by
Abbey
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