I don’t not remember the self-inflicted nausea of my early twenties that I blamed on everyone but me.
Hardened sandbags strapped to my sides, fastened with T3 text messages that I sent 3 hours ago.
You never replied.
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Child like romance crushing the kid in me. I held your angst, stacked stones on my mule back, aged as quickly as I was a teen.
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Hey.
Hey you.
I see you over there in the corner
Exhausted and gasping for breath
Wind smacked and back punched with all of the life out.
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