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Feb 2021
I feel breathless at any speck of thought —an idea— crossing my mind. I am restlessly wishing for something, prying for crumbs, and my mind is slowly sinking. Breathing words for oxygen, concepts for nutrients. I am a starving girl in a desert of words.
—famished for nothing, anything, everything
Written by
Luna D Olivera  17/F/Lima, Peru
(17/F/Lima, Peru)   
950
   Stephanie
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