darling,
are you being honest with yourself?
i see you sigh for the high, the paper rolls
and substance.
there's a pipe dream of emptiness, like fire to these lungs,
tainting your soul. and this air you breathe-a blanket of blackness,
masking reality, choking reason, clouding judgement.
you're enticed and do lust,
for moments too temporal but
it's as conception of death,
in the earth you'll rot to.
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