Under the filth of my addiction
Is my solitude
I am left alone with a cancer
That I cannot cure
As it grows, my mouth becomes dry
And I find everything tasteless
But I am bound to eat it forcibly
Since there’s no pleasure to celebrate
Except for my heartache
The cancer gives me solace
And my tears salt it to be consume
As the tolerance is futile
It is swept underneath
And becomes my shield
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I hope this cancer is only symbolic? Intense ink.