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by Abhinav SinghFading
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Fading, swaying away, it's foul

Rotten flesh in my teeth

I ate a kid for breakfast

He loved playing on my porch

He was the presence of my past

He was happy and I was not

And now I am here and he is not

I am weird because you make me

I am different because you don't accept me

I hate being myself, cause you hate me

I lay dead here, infront of myself

With no one to save me

It's fading, it's foul, it's grating

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