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lost words, broken speech This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

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I need a new alphabet,
one made out of slamming doors,
screeching tires peeling off into the night,
and beer bottles smashing against pavement.

You’re still waiting for me to tell you what
you want to hear, but my tongue is tied.
I have never been the kind of girl who
knows exactly what to say.

You speak in empty promises,
and drunken phone calls to ex-lovers.
Even if I could find the right words to say,
you wouldn’t understand me anyway.



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