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May 5
32
Old song, new seat,
up another gauge.

Open palm, right cheek,
the same rage.

Undereyes are ultravi-
briny lies or
welts of shame
gnawing from the inside.

Catch her in the alley
sparking up at night.
Mulling over what she said,
can never keep it light.

Five years, no change,
some new phase.

A new place, the same pain,
the same waste.
Written by
Lisa  26/F
(26/F)   
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