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Alone
When you are truly alone
No one answers your questions
No one holds you until
The trembling stops
I am aching yet numb
Feeling inferior while I falsify life
While beneath the exterior
I sweep up the crumbs
Of the leftover dreams
That turned into dust
And all of the shine
That turned into rust
If they noticed the dullness in my eyes
Or picked up on the flatness in my voice
They would never think it was as simple
As making the choice
To be who I am
And what I've become
Depression absorbed me
And now we are one
poem
by
Erika Wingo
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