roadkill | poem

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my body is wrecked

but that is my own doing

skip a meal

skip a meal

    you aren't hungry anyways


my mind

is destroyed

and i can simply

think

my way into a migraine

take the pain medication

stay numb

      its only for the physical pain anyways

     or so i try convince myself


how alive can we be

                if all we want to do is die?


-n.c

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