Magazine Clippings

Leave school to write poetry

Make friends with empty streets

The only perfume you wear comes from magazines

And try as you might, you can’t figure out what the graffiti means

Fill your veins with coffee

Until you feel real again

Let the cold sink into your skin

Until you can feel again

Bury yourself in books and poetry

Stare down at empty streets

Cover your walls in pages from magazines

And hope you can figure out what all of this means

Before you become just another teenage tragedy

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