A poem about feeling used, unwanted, and wanting to prove everyone wrong.

I need a cigarette to help me not sweat, you must think I’m a fucking pet. Look, I’d like to place a bet, I think can make you regret thinking I’m wet. Don’t worry, I wont stay long, just enough to prove you wrong, but first let me hit this bong. I can’t help but shoot daggers from my eyes, I’ll feed you glass inside a pie, why? To put it simple, you’re more annoying than a pimple, I can see you on the moon, sorry if I’m rude, Jude. 

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