Sick to my stomach trippin on your vomit, behavior, and lies. How do you sleep at night while your liver is drowning the purity and good in life? Are you tethered? Are you too far weathered in your cans of clouded vision? Pop another tab. Buff your welcome mat laid for bad decisions, and let it shine like pyrite in the noonday sun. Usher in the gin and tonic dressed in tails, smooth and toxic. And let it burn you down. But don't you dare try to take my children with you. Because if you do, those tabs you'll be poppin, won't belong to those God-damned, cloud-filled cans. Oh hell no.
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AuthorMolly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw. Categories |