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Alicia

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

3 poems·Since May 2013
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Streetside

May 8, 2013
it trembles, a crooked form caught in a black sea, its surface stagnant now – the still waters rumble with the passing of cars and unmoving eyes, casting deep shadows over its small broken body
alone and weary
it croaks, a feathery wing outstretched, reaching a mouth, wide open
unable to utter a single cry
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