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I'd felt the pop of the needle sliding into my veins, like a fang into flesh. I'd been enveloped in the golden haze where nothing is wrong even when everything is falling apart. A dance with a hypodermic fiend, my hands in the claws of a vulture.
—
Taylor Rhodes, Sixteenth Notes: The Breaking of the Rose-Colored Glasses
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drug use
fear
heroin
recklessness
regret
sixteenth notes
taylor rhodes
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