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It's raining. And I don't know what time it is. But I know that I shouldn't still be in bed. The worst part is, I don't want to look at myself in the mirror when I wake up. I don't want to see the mascara caked under my eyes and my cracked, dry lips. Untouched. The only thing I kiss is a bottle and even that burns when the intoxicating liquids pour down my throat.

— z.s // excerpts from a book i'll never write #24

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