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Sep 2012
Look at me.
Hear my thoughts.
Screaming, crying,
Hear my voice
like the wet sand is now dry
and the cracks are forming.
My words are hitting a cold steel wall
No door, no window
no way is it possible to look inside
and see whats happening
after bashing and thrashing and screaming and beating
i wisper
"please,
Please face me"
Georgiana Banks
Written by
Georgiana Banks  Washington
(Washington)   
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