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May 2015
I sit in the dark.
I hear the cricket's lonesome chirp.
I smell the burnt popcorn wafting from my brother's lap.
I hear his sour words of hate
"I hope you die''
On loop until, again, I cry.
Not because of the hateful words.
Not because he meant them.
Not because my mother did not resent them
But just because
I
                Agree.
Moose
Written by
Moose
432
 
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