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First Blood.

The first time
to taste it.
My heart races,
the momentum,
then the smell.
I'm sick.
I'm going to hell.

The taste.
The disgrace.
Time to wastes.
Take or leave.
This now weaves the
new me, without a care
, set, no sleep, no dreams,
no friends.

Born again
or dead?
Written by maria (IRK)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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