In their eyes,
you are using again.
A puppet of some sinister substance,
siphoned of substantiality.
You strut without feeling your feet,
as a pallbearer to your self, inside.
Your words stated with sureness
are not attached to ideas.
Hollywood taught you to want always more.
Now you are used by your using.
You run, but the user is in you,
and you cannot escape.
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