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Dec 2022
It is scrawny and starving
Kicking at its gate, gnashing it’s jaws at my hands and throat
Bleeding through the chains and hay
Collapsing only to wail through the roof and into the sky

I sit at the barn door and sob

But I love you,
So I don’t feed it and I watch it die.
Calli Kirra
Written by
Calli Kirra  23/Los Angeles/London
(23/Los Angeles/London)   
  259
   Rob Rutledge
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