My mouth tastes like Jack.
I hate the taste of jack.
But my friend says I seem more like a fairy when I'm drunk.
When I'm drunk.
I feel less sad.
More like I'm okay.
I hate the taste of Jack.
I hate the things I say too,
So maybe it's not so bad?
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Butterflies come flying out [poetry]
PoetryThe words of a teenage girl with too many emotions and no other form of catharsis.
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