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Jul 2017
I haven't see sky for weeks
haven't felt the sun kiss my skin
or smelled the sweet summer grass

I miss my blue skies
and even more - I miss the stars
puncturing the sky so black
like little rips in the seam

I used to really live
but now,
I am just a non-person-
scaling the verge of death
Liz Devine
Written by
Liz Devine  Brooklyn
(Brooklyn)   
232
     Lior Gavra and wordvango
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