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I've been shoved violently off my feet, into the dirt.
Love is the only way I'm able to stand.
The painful gashes that cover my body sting even more with the absence of you this summer.
Exerting as much force as I can
I wipe the merlot blood away from these wounds in hopes of learning to stand without fear once again.
Now I'm very aware of how substantial this phobia is.
Now I know how unlikely it is for me ever to get up.
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