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 Sep 2017
cher
i can feel the cotton
weave beneath my feet, soles
brushing against the sheets
as i scroll, waiting for the shallow
excitement of a notification from
you, this boredom and isolation
boring orafices shallow as my
joy and deep as my pain into
my skull for its been days and
weeks since ive seen you, this
loneliness confining me to
my warm and comforting yet
cold and distressed cotton sheets.
age 14

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