Procrastination

We drown our thoughts

With the dying sound of our constant breaths

Masking our fears

Masking our tears

Wearing a mask for our ignorant years

This place is toxic

This place is home

There is piss on the floor

There is dirt on the walls

But we ignore it

We abandon ourselves

Leaving our souls in a dream

And our body in a room with locked doors

We want to leave

But we can't

We want to clean up this mess

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