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Apr 2019
The birds fall from the sky.
My eyes are dry.
The buildings collapse on top of me.
My eyes are dry.
I realize I cannot cry.
My eyes remain dry.
I let out a sigh.
Still, my eyes are dry.
I realize you're going to die.
My eyes want to, but they cannot cry.
How is everyone doing today?
Shea
Written by
Shea  21/Genderqueer/|*
(21/Genderqueer/|*)   
  390
   Lori Jones McCaffery
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