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Oct 2018
And to think of those with one choice, already chosen for them
When I have freedom

My freedom is prison
The clock moves forward
Everyday
it keeps taking me back
to that loneliest hour
I can’t stop breathing, even if I tried

Something in the air just weighs me down
A flower watered to death.
Sindi Kafazi
Written by
Sindi Kafazi  29/F/Brooklyn
(29/F/Brooklyn)   
245
   Rick and Elizabeth C
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