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Oct 2014
A freshly wrung-out sponge, doomed to spend eternity being teased by the one thing that once kept me alive.
A bendy-straw cigarette ****, damp and unable to be re-lit while its insides stumble every which way and that.
A crumpled piece of paper thrown under a tree, destined to spend its entire life in the shadow of its father.
Sour Patched Kid
Written by
Sour Patched Kid
21
 
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