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Sep 2020
in my eyes, an ever morning fog
since I were a child

I stopped breathing then
hitch in my throat when I must inhale

I hate to

and I see myself living
so far removed

arms, legs, mouth
going through the motions

reading myself the actions
rehearsing this play

all the world’s a stage
Written by
meadowbrook  27/F/Sydney
(27/F/Sydney)   
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