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liz
Poems
Oct 2012
not yet.
What was likely apple jacks
that resembled arroz con leche
was the primary factor in
an eleven
year
anxiety
attack
the frozen inability to enter
muraled cafeterias
clement j zablocki
you hold torture chambers
"call my mom I am sick"
distract me from my nausea
my mental nausea
I am not ready for this confrontation
I began to write this, but stopped abruptly because I feel as though it is just not time for me to talk about it. I am not ready.
Written by
liz
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