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Feb 2021
Two years ago I would be terrified.

Sitting alone in the dark,
A bus stop on an empty street.

My hands are under my legs,
Im not cold.

Ive stared at a yellow light,
I imagine its hue as the sun
It feels warm.

Sounds of faint wind whistles course from one ear to another,
I smile and take a deep breath in.

Here where I am sat, I belong.

I close my eyes and imagine what will come of me,
What will come of me?

The Artic air, the sinister setting complete a tranquil mind.

I have accepted all odds.

I am not scared.
Mary Woods
Written by
Mary Woods
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