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2-17

There are mud stains on the back of my jeans.

Empty glasses in the sink.

The blanket on the living room floor.

My lungs stop working every time I look at them.

Air getting caught in my throat.

I clean up, and it becomes real:

It's over.

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36 / F / American

Published: Apr 16, 2011
LinesWords: 747

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2-17 - Hello Poetry