Poetry. Wasting My Life Wasting my life in the gleaming snow aka cocaine. Did you realize the human body has got over seven miles of braided thoughts? Under this girdle of fat I'm wasting away, in a sweater, eating from a bucket. In fat I see myself distilled more honestly than in my face. It stuffs me full of non-predestined life. Pain: where do you come from? I feel you, because I'm emotional. And I feel you again, because I'm remotional.
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