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Addicted to da poetic game
Laid awake on late nights producing lines of poetic aspirations to the beat of the rain that fell freely from blood shot eyes, soaking endless pages of composition notebooks while she watched ink flowing, witnessing poems commit suicide from the broken hearts She embodied into wide ruled cell blocks. Heard them whisper lullabys and death wishes in the form of whimpers her pen and paper created. She offered no salvation when She drowned thoughts of her words with the hypnotiq and hennesy just so she could bleed literature from her soul and reproduce the blackened tears that kept her womb weeping. Page after page She birthed prophecies in forms of heart broken memories and biblical promises hoping for just one second to herself, so maybe poetry wouldnt be the only thing she secreted during late nights when she found myself alone yet again