The homeless.
I wish I could say that they are a dying breed.
They're not.
They,
just like you and I,
are too scared to kill themselves.
I take mine in small doses.
Other, more fortunate souls,
take it all at once.
Either thru traumatic early years,
or failed adulthood.
They know just when to quit.
Perfection.
It's an art one could never hang
on any wall.
ever.
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