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a poem by C Wilk
addict lonely i just start offering the world myself it's not pretty especially the next day when i do it all over again juggling profligacy on the tip of my finger has precarious consequences my façade keeps lapsing so much so even my neurologist thinks i'm falling apart & yes he is privy to my shriving one of the fantastic executioners in waiting for my confession to hit with the guilty verdict & quickly end some of my misery help me be the next JC superstar but with the blessings of larry flynt |