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Aug 2012
And then it got worse
no pens would work
I couldn't escape into verse
nothing rhymed without reason
I drank and became hopeful
but there were goofballs in the soup
and my hope began to droop

A hissing hissed
and I felt I couldn't die
not ever or forever
that hell emerged slowly
gutting my army of pawns

Strangers were disappointed in me
I paid the homeless for company
and tried desperately to warm my hands
over a garbage can of dying rage
Jessica Merkling  Dittmar
1.4k
 
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