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Two Weeks Gone
I don’t want to care about you
Nor you, them, and she
I cared for one, found another
Got shot down
Like a baby girl who can’t run
Rather be mean
Fold myself in metal
Trample the skins
Fishing around in my head
Than be stretched out
So easily seen
In a lonely sky
Open for you, them, and she
Rollie pollie child
It’s going to be awhile
Before you unroll me
Faces glued
To the back of my eyes
I just want to stop
Repeating what I did wrong
Rollie pollie child
It’s going to be awhile
Before you unroll me
Don’t want to ever think again
How I messed up all those good things
poem
by
Marijke McKinney
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