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Feb 2016
in this room i am the youngest, smallest
i hear pieces of tens of conversations
never getting to taste the full conversation
the pieces i hear are made up of knives instead of words
each letter is another rope tying around my neck
the walls seem like they are closing in on me
i am waiting for the pain signaling there is no more space for me
my throat is tightening in the anticipation of someone noticing
noticing the girl in the corner of the room
the girl with sweat collecting on her forehead
behind her glasses she is trembling
but no one notices
after all
who notices one girl in a crowded room
AFR
Written by
AFR
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