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Oct 2015
your pulse has been steady for ages now
and you only cry at shakespeare— never at your frailty
you’re not frail

tonight, when the door locks behind you
and you jiggle the doorknob; you
pound the glass and nobody hears you
not one soul

panic rises, boils in your ribs
and you think well hey
at least only security guards
will see me like this
Written by
CR
311
   Cecil Miller and bones
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