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"Give me my sin again."
- Romeo Montague

I want to be the smoke gently caressing your fine skin, and the mouth of the bottle arrogantly touching your lively lips as you sip your daily beer along with your daily woes, and the profanities making their way out of your mouth as you curse the world with its people for being a pain, and the words you loathe penning since they make you vulnerable.

I yearn to be the lies you tell everyone to keep you from harm and, at the same time, the truths which upset you as you repress them, for both of these things have you inside.

Please, let me be the things you ostensibly hate (and so much more), always to be remembered as you indulge in each. 

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