Coordinants
I have found myself returning to a world I had learned to hate.
The smoke curls out of my lips, the clock ticks.
My lies pile up on top of another.
The cool air creeps in.
I need to creep out.
The smoke curls out of my lips, the clock ticks.
My lies pile up on top of another.
The cool air creeps in.
I need to creep out.
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