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Jun 2014
I sold my soul for a memory of you, one not
even long enough to be recorded

on vinyl and small enough to trap in
the empty pen I used to write

down these words. In a sense you’re now
eternal since souls are boundless and

yours is now my ink. Don’t warn your children
of strangers or drugs, rather of soul buyers

on street corners at 8PM in July. Rejection
itself is enough of a drug.

(Sold/lost: a reverse connotation where one letter
is enough to overlook the mistranslation)
This is what all these playlists and vintage shops do to me, paired up with the fact that I see you escorting a new girl into your car every day and knowing I won't be one of them; foolish, considering the fact you've already said "no".
Written by
Margaryta  Canada
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