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Just me.

Just me.

Friday, 4 January 2013


Mother,
He didn't want to see your pain
when 
             you
                         were 
                                       dying
and
danced on
ever so smoothly

I could smell his drunken breath
and feel the tiniest droplets
Of his salty sweat
falling on my 
T                    E                   B                   I                 G 
           R                   M                  L                  N                     knees

His laughter vibrantly echoes 
in my ears
to tell his story of
Betrayal
every evening


Mother,
Where was I?


Listen

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