Substance

The juice sinks into me like a warm sunrise,

While the luxury of self-indulgent paths imagines it as love.

I begged to graduate;

coercing the puncture of my curiosity.

Drinking the elixir of blood and guts,

grit and fear moved in slow motion veins.

I lived in a paper castle,

to avoid the somebody that always dies.

Never thinking that someone could be me.

No one hears the river as it thins out.

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