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Stockholm syndrome

  • Poet
  • Jan 29
  • 1 min read

Hoping to be brought back on your alien ship

Waiting for the techno music to play again

Bring you back on the dance floor

Taking hits of the coked up rumors

The last line between us

Flying in my spaceship

I keep hoping you’ll show up to abduct me again

Painting me green because I’m your alien superstar

but I feel like I can breathe again without your UFO shining down on everything wrong with me




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