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Dreams that taste like memories, My tonuge twists in my mouth. I feel your hand caress my cheek. You catch a falling tear and wipe it, gently, away. But your kiss is sterile, empty bland.
I am of the youth One with such a small voice But though I cannot cast a ballot I can still scream, and think like any other I still have the right to make my own decisions
We grew up differently We grew up like no one else Our childhoods were defined by fear They were defined by terror We grew up knowing nothing but violence
I feel numb inside…empty & lost. I find myself trying to rekindle my soul, while keeping my eyes open for the lost pieces of myself; they were sold, but at what cost?