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salvation.

The questions and
the disappearing trust.
The constant fighting and
the lonely nights.
The ceiling became
my companion.
It knew everything.
It saw everything.
It heard everything.
The stories it holds,
through every crack
and misplaced tile,
became undone
and spilled,
pulled down,
to the wood panels
below.
Sprawled on the floor
like me.
Read the stories.
Remember the stories.
Salvage the stories.
Us.
Ours.
Save it all.




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