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Jessica Fowler
Poems
Sep 2012
Get Up
Skin stings in the cold,
pupils contract,
air freezes lungs.
Shrouded in this dull ache,
blood like lead,
Iām heavy.
Like a sigh
life swept out of me,
I am a shell now.
Harsh brightness.
Coming to.
Deep breath.
Get up.
Written by
Jessica Fowler
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