Poem 90

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As soon as I hung up
I knew it would happen
I cut up my body
And I let my sobs shake it
I lost count of the lines
I saw so much red
It's a wonder
I'm not already dead
It's not your fault
I promise my dear
But I'm not good
At facing myself
At coping well
Or at dealing reasonably
I know you'll know
When you read this poem
Which night it's from
Like I said
I don't trust myself
Oh god
I knew I shouldn't be idle
Yet the words screamed at me
As soon as we ended our call
Caused my demons to rally
And they protested my life
And I let them
Because this frantic writing
Is done with blood on the floor
And smeared mascara on my shirt

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