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We Will Be Diseased

I am doomed
Chin up, forehead down

I don't feel internally
Bound

He said I would look better
Aren't we all concerned?

Take a pinch
Put it below my lips

Where the skin has grazed
And I'm lumping for days

In the pits of fire
And a sentimental whine

While he says that atleast
I will not grow bald

We're not sophisticated
We are one entity

Divided by the bumps
Everything an aesthete can see

We are
Forever. Externally.

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