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Jaicob
Poems
May 2021
Worse.
I'm just a ghost,
A rotting mortal shell,
A husk without bones,
The one who speaks uselessly
As he waits for his final death.
I may be just a bit more
Suicidal than before, but
If you listen closely
To the story I dare to tell,
It only
gets
worse.
Written by
Jaicob
18/M/six feet under
(18/M/six feet under)
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