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May 2019
Here it comes again,
The feeling i had hoped i’d forget.
The hands in my brain, fingers twisting
pretzel knots out of memories,
squeezing out life juice and blood
like a butcher’s wash cloth.
I had really hoped i’d never feel
this feeling again, the feeling
of looking at something beautiful
from behind a glass.
Can you even see me anymore?
Ed C
Written by
Ed C  22/NYC
(22/NYC)   
313
   Anna-Marie Rose and Jules
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