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lights.

i have felt weaker than winter & held on to the rage of 22 years
furrowing into my crevice of a heart.

but there was so much to pray for when the fields didn't grow

so the world was painfully bright

& subsequently eaten alive, by the homesick sister of
a boy you once shared the morning with.

and the hesitation was brilliantly close.

Author notes

not finished.

you're always in a dream.

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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