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Nov 8
A touch, a sound of little laughter-
and conflict starts to simmer.
The way one stands apart from them
and somehow, she’s the sinner.
She’s home by nine for little time
exists to venture outward.
A thrashing sleep awaits her and she’d thought sleep would bring comfort.

They pass the time in little ways
that reek of **** and spirits.
And if she was to ever ask
‘you wouldn’t want to hear it’.
So how she instead loses time
in bed and with no company,
it hits home hard when implied that
she won’t know how to cut loose.

It’s true, she’s sad, but not in how
you choose to look down on her-
So next time, when they judge so quick
Indignation will burn hotter.
Written by
Christine Ely  mn
   Kenshō and annh
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