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by
Eliot
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Poems
Jan 2013
Breath
I'm wallowing again.
stuck in another rut
like a mudder who took
one too many chances.
!I couldnt possibly pull myself out of that!"
the mudder yells,
but you gently remind him
that he's full of ****.
You take a step back.
Breathe.
One.
Two.
Three.
Hello, nice to see you again.
For a moment
I was lost.
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Daan
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sassybutsweet
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