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Bad poetry

never stop writing
even when your soul feels like an empty pill bottle
when you really, really didn’t want an empty bottle
it’s like
when one of the sad girls from the clubs doesn’t know you
she tries to find a way
to come home with you
everyone thinks you’re easy but their hearts
bury you with their vacancy
you shamble away
a vagrant
you may not partake and
you may not stop writing.

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