It’s cigarettes and coffeebetween worries and words.I could be talking to youinstead of myself,but you’re allergic to smokeand I can’t step outsideevery 10 minutes.It’s winter in New York City. I won’t make any sacrifices.I’ve come far enough in lifeto know when to give inand I won’t give in to you.I don’t have to.The thing inside of…

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