everyone passed you by and went on to the next
i stayed to comfort and nurture your bruised heart
now you lead the pact and have no recollection of everything i did for you
i should have been one of them and used you for everything you have
your eyes penatrate my soul
piercing every fiber with looks of ignorance and disgust
you
reak of one night stands
a stench of alcohol coating your inner ability to mingle harmlessly
the lack of class brings forth images of inner city new york prostitudes
do your wrists still hurt?
does your virtue still roam free?
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