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May 4, 2018

The rumble is an earthquake
Shaking my thoughts away
And my last meal will be death
Served cold with a glass of water
How much easier would
Ending it be
If I didn’t feel hungry?
Not only deprived
I don’t even feel it
The stomach’s cry
The baby has been put to sleep
So tired
Why does cucumber look divine?
Dirt has never seemed like
A more enticing dessert,
Until now
Crawling my way through
Candy land, my world
Finally in Utopia
Surrounded by my lacking
In the sugar grass
And mud pie

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