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imaginationcollaborator
Poems
Jul 2014
This Sickening Summer
Hurt plays downstairs.
And it rings in my ears.
"I hurt myself today".
The baby cries downstairs.
And I cry up here.
I don't want you to know me.
My books sprawled in front of me.
My tests tomorrow.
I don't think I'll take them this year.
Scissors beside me.
Small. Blue. Sharp.
Let's turn the wood floor red.
Written 3rd June
Written by
imaginationcollaborator
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