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This cigarette is a placebo
the sharp cry of metal scrapping flint sets you ablaze,
combustion, turning oxygen and nicotine into ash in my mouth,
I want to kiss you my dear,
I want to breath you in and fill my lungs to the brim
with your choked up hope
I want to wait and see,
believe with every part of me,
that when i finish this stint,
things might be different,
that this next drag might lag that aching hole,
and one day soon I might feel whole
Copyright ©
Amber Miller
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