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12:34 AM

A Poem

By ChloePublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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addiction. when that scent

picture

song

person

weather

anything

slips past your wall of security and gets to you

your head stops and focuses on all the memories of that dreaded thing

your hand starts to tremble with the loss of putting that thing to your mouth, or through your veins and blood

your brain starts to remember how much you love the smell of smoke, ashes, whiskey

the smell of self destruction

your whole body feels the tension

there's no coming back from it this time

sad poetry
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