The Pact

screw your brains out on a martini binge
your life hinges on
fucking.
late night trips to the bar across town. alone.
fucked up somehow searching,
lost, reaching, whats the cost.
whats the price bitch,
a dinner, a movie, or how bout twenty bucks
right here, right now.
doesnt matter, we are all in the same bar.
same place. same time.
lost, dying, crying alone, in front of the mirror,
listening for the phone.

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