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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() Heat the stove, and allow my blood to boil. I didn’t leave so you killed me. When you let me in on your dirty secret, did you already picture the day you’d break my chin? The day you’d realise that no, Bonnie and Clyde died to be a mere ideal; imagine how the world would react to a
Clyde and Clyde tale, how they would aggravate and relish the nausea of their hyperbole, how they would scorn, then senesce, then mould us as martyrs to venerate. By no means am I a Clyde though, Clyde. You are the most brazen man I’ve ever met, and you have made the most craven man I ever met of me. Now solicit my spectre before you strike on it. Sense the rush of your perversion and acknowledge it. Comments are closed.
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November 2023
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