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Penchant

  • Jessy Ismoyo
  • Feb 16, 2015
  • 1 min read
I see trees I taste social disease I sit at the bay I feel gray Maybe it's suicide squeeze play

I like this girl

Messed up hair with pin curl

Her existence is sentient

She got me a penchant

Trenchant distinction

Her resistence makes me skip distance

I kiss her lips

In total eclipse

We drunk

In pullmonary trunk

And smell like a skunk

I try to commit But fuck it I vomit

 
 
 

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© 2015 by SMALL BRAND. Write It Forward. Project by Jessy Ismoyo. Images by Kristian Erdianto. Proudly created with Wix.com

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