Rotten

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I don't like returning to my old school
The sweet memories have rotted
After I've see the true colors of these people
Who I once called my friends

I can still taste the anxiety I would get, going there everyday

But the good memories-
The ones I want to remember
Just Make the rotted ones worse

A liquorish sweet taste that taunts my tongue if what could have been.
Like rotten fruit.

My old self has rotted too.
That was their fault
I swear
I wasn't like this before

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