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if i take my fist off the chair
i might bubble over
boil or burn or freeze, who knows
who cares
single-syllable shares

lady grey, come back, come home
i think i’ll be ill from all the feeling
filling me

lady grey come back come home
i know i said
anything would be better
but i lied
i was stupid
naive
desperate

this is not.

Read it with a stutter, read it with your eyes closed like fists. Read it like the next letter might choke you, like the very floor underneath you is shuddering.

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