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Nov 2012
When dark arrives, tears follow
Heaving sobs to a baby’s sigh
It comes so suddenly—
An iron punch to the gut
Until I am doubled over, writhing
And when it finally passes
Delirium ensues
And every object surrounding
Turns a violent violet
So I curl into a ball and shake
Begging for morning
To keep me from mourning
The little girl that wasn’t
Darbi Alise Howe
Written by
Darbi Alise Howe  Berkeley, CA
(Berkeley, CA)   
604
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