Keep burning those bridges down.... down down down to the ground...
and somehow new ones arise..rebuilding old ones with more n more lies.... its the ties that bond....family of fools reliant on the white powder.... when its gone and your body is drained.. time to hit the shower try to wash off the pain... the thoughts make you crindge, .. spin in your head.. thats when you finally go to bed... you leave the light on even sleep in your clothes.. still afraid someone will find your secrets out, , , turns your dreams into nightmares that fill your head knowing someday you might wind up dead... its only a guilty conscience that gives you bad dreams and knowing what your doing to yourself and to others... you feel the bile rise in your throat..the fog clouds your mind... no wait thats the smoke coming from your pipe...
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I would like to translate this poem
poet's broken romantic affair has paved way to a delightful piece of art, abstract writting and expressive words. LIKE