You can't save me
My crisises are torturing me with it's holy smokes
Cigarettes are burning my soul
And then I began to scream
In fact I am dead
With my paper promises
I don't know where I should go
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Subconsciousness
PoetrySomething about me, my feelings, my heart, mind and subconsciousness Photo credits - Iwona Majewska-Opiełka
