A significant allotment of my mind wishes I could be swept under a thick, cozy blanket of drugged numbness and comfort. I’m unaccustomed to dealing with this magnitude of sadness without the aid of chemicals. I will admit, I have returned to smoking marijuana at night but only at night. It comforts my wounded mind, remedies those constant,
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“You’re sick of, You’re in your twenties, He smelled like, He lays on the bed, He thought about her wardrobe, Openly weeping, Nevada is a strange place, You said come and I came
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anyone else will just be a sham. i'd rather be alone than fool myself into believing i'll love anyone else. living with a ghost, the memory of, echoes that will never fade. i close my eyes it's all i see. imprinted on my soul like a thousand footsteps in the sand. gulping down oxygen and whispering to the sky because it's all i have left of you
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