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Writer's pictureTomás Tedesco

Care

Nobody cares


&


trauma reassures itself

that all is wrong,

by pouring sensation

into your

bifurcated spine,

so your eyes only

look in,

where no light enters.


&


You think what you feel

is the only thing that’s real.


&


You don't know you are repelling

the hands that shape

the medicine

that you need,

while your red,

blue,

yellow,

green puzzle memories

drain from your ears


&


your bloated fingers munch

on the watered colors


&


as you keep drinking

from your own self-aggrandizing

monologue, you think


this is only your sedative,

but you are wrong,


thinking if you ran out of water

nobody would care

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