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Mar 2017
Saturdays are tense
with the promise of something else
Mother stares at her plate
Father can't stop talking
and I lie in my tension

Saturdays are tense
with the shadow of the past
of the embryonic, of my life

Saturdays are waiting on an edge
Of other people's doubts
Saturdays are a loaded gun
With nothing to shoot but air...

Saturdays are happy days
but not today
Psychotic Poetess
Written by
Psychotic Poetess  27/Madrid
   ---, Pax and Tapiwa Individualist
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