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secondhand

i don't carry a lighter

but, baby,

i would hold a match to the entire free world

just so you could light your cigarette

on the flames of civilization going to ****

i love the smell of capitalism cremating

and of you breathing your slow death

into my trembling lungs.

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Written by
keely-anne
American
Published
Sep 17, 2013
Lines·Words
8·50
Notes

9/17/13

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