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Apr 2018
connected to the end of a fishing line,
pulled by a hook the eye,
reeled onto the deck by a strong grip,
lashing out against every touch,
try to hold me down and still my movements,
screaming for air while swallowing nothing,
soon limp i'm tossed aside as you go back to the reel,
pray that others will see my blood on; your hook in disguise
Riley June
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Riley June
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