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Hope Peck
Poems
Apr 2020
Untitled
he thinks i am cold
i won't tell him how i am hurting
his heartbreak, as big as a dirigible
and twice as likely to go down in flames.
he feels this now,
fresh and
unadulterated,
burning icy hot,
cold hands under hot faucet.
Written by
Hope Peck
21/F/Philadelphia
(21/F/Philadelphia)
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