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 May 2015
Cold-Bones
insomniac to the weight of regret          
           I'm inclined to withhold.
 May 2015
Cat Fiske
He is the best liar,
but my worlds,
*one desire,
boys
 May 2015
Cat Fiske
and her scars healed,
and her wrists mimicked,
*the treebark,
a old poem I just typed up now
 May 2015
Cat Fiske
A child thought,
my cuts,
where just from,
paper
*cuts.
I went to work one day and I remember the little boy thought my cuts were from paper, and thought I was unlucky.
 May 2015
Francie Lynch
When I uncapped my pen,
My favourite verse flew out.
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