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Loves
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April 18
It’s my birthday:
I wake up early
Because of nerves
Or maybe
It’s just random.
It’s my birthday:
I unwrap two presents
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Unimaginative
For every word I can’t say,
I try to write it down,
but at the end of the day,
I know I’ll never find the words.
They jumble together,
like the sunset’s melting colors.
For every excuse I make,
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how the wind blows over the river
how the wind blows over the river
quite a curious thing, isn’t it,
the way the water rolls in time
with the wind’s hushed music
that echoes
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We are in a Crisis
We call it: “catastrophe,” as if — it is different.
A child nursed of negligence.
Yes, it is not ours —
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anticipation
i remember my first day of middle school
i was wearing washed-out jeans and a t-shirt from Target
my short brown hair was parted to the side