#32

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a burning cigarette

in hand , and eyes

full of regret .

he is the boy ,

who lost

himself

somewhere

among

the tiny wisps

of smoke that

curled in the air

, before touching

the ceiling of his

bedroom .

he is the boy ,

who buried his

soul under

layers of self doubt ,

and drowned his

body in past's

mistakes .

he's been

betrayed by

his own words ,

that always touch

the tip of his tongue

but never pass the

barrier of his teeth .

he has a heart , that

sees beauty in

everything but

blind to the beauty

that pours from

within him .

his pen scribbles

letters that wail

in silence , and

his ink streams

against empty

sheets to write

down chapters

of his unfinished

story .

he's a broken

boy who read

through the lies

and metaphors

of a broken girl

who has nothing

to hold on to but

her poetry .

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