There's smoke everywhere but that's all I have for air.
People laugh and talk but of my presence non seems aware.
They're all the same; vapers on one hand and drinks on the other.
That's how it's supposed to be, so I'm told by my brother.
The music's too loud, but that's the preference of the crowd.
The room's too dim, but it's all meant to act as a shroud,
Hiding kisses and public displays of sex.
Yet I somehow feel like all this is a hoax.
Two hours in and I decide to finally give in.
Bathroom blowjobs are followed by sin after sin.
Downing a bottle of wine makes everything seem fine.
But I fall asleep knowing I had crossed an irreversible line.
Come morning, the party scene turns into a crime scene.
Cigs, vomit and empty bottles all fill the dustbin.
Four rapes, six attempts and two assault; all in the course of the night.
But that's how it's supposed to be, right?
There's no joy or freedom, it's all but a hoax.
The smoke, the drinks, the music; they just fill us with false hopes.
They only nurture young alcoholics and addicts.
The outcome is always bad, that's the final verdict.
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Love, Keaton
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COLORS THAT MADE ME ✅
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