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I only write when I’m tired
i only write when i’m tired
i only write when my eyes droop low and the skin on my hands
has become frayed.
yesterday i promised myself to be clean again
i felt my bones jar into my skin
a woman smiled at me the other day when
i got off the bus.
her forehead wrinkled and
her lipstick had smudged onto her teeth
i look into my mirror before bed
and trace the veins under my eyes
sometimes my reflection
smiles at me.
crumpled papers litter my bedroom floor because
a lot of the time
i don’t have anything to say.

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