new york poetry

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Remember those nights. Fire escapes and city lights. Unmade beds and endless talks. Counting the stars and throwing rocks.   Running around busy streets. Wind in our hair and shoes on our feet.
New York; your streets have treated me quite well, And even in the darkest nights or rain, And even more in love with you I fell, So now my heart will never be the same.  
I can't fucking stand myself because I've joined a self loathing click we stand around and smoke cigarettes talking about how lucky we are to be models though we are so fat and ugly  
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