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Literature Text
Breathing smoke into my lungs,
Its starting to feel like i was meant to die young
Memories of holding strong
Filter through my head
Blood drips down my wrists
Staining cigarette ashes at my feet
Getting lost in my sweater
I forget what its like to eat
And I miss the way
You would look at me
These vices now are my secrets
That I keep
These wreck less moments of our youth,
And lovers hold on
To everything.
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