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Asphalt - Chapter II
Eight months
and I am okay.
Eight months and fourteen days
and
eleven
forty
forty-one.
I hate who I
(surround myself)
am
(with)
Sun shines
prevails
through glass
casting light
across my
eyes.
I sit with my
acquaintances
(or)
people that are
maybe friends.
We aren't
good
and I would never wish we were.
The girl with the headband
pink hair
(The boy) with the sweatshirt
and smile
(The one) who makes no sense.
(And) music I hate
spills through the
speakers of phones
that I want.
Words
whispers
drum
kick
clap
mindless
droning
of phrases
I hate
and people
(I resent)
Saltwater
hot
it burns.
Like a
(paradox)
my hands are
cold
the water is too cold
and it is
(hot)
Existence
the bane of it
why did it
make me who I am
when I could have sculpted myself
(if only I was)
Clever.
I am a bad person.
A girl with
brown hair and
brown eyes
just like every other girl with
(brown hair brown eyes).
I miss the original
and I hate the original.
I said
(it won't work)
and (you) said
(I don't care)
and now we are like
paper.
You can
write
draw
read
on paper
and erase
if you (hate everything)
Only until you
screw yourself
(over)
and coat the paper
with
wax.
Because with wax
the paper is
shiny
and pretty.
Even when the wax (melts)
you are still
perfectly
()
unable
()
to write.
Even if you miss
(writing)
writing.
Present day
I found my
place.
I wish I didn't.
I am a bad person.
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Yeah, I don't really know what to say. This is the second chapter of whatever this is. Please tolerate it