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Complications
So tired of the secretions
Bare skin thick until it reaches the bone
Threads hung loosely to provide comfort
For someone other than myself
Engulfed in what has been
And reminds me of what will never be
Heard so many rumours
Some of which are my own
Keep on forgetting why I call this home
Tugging at my hair
Press my lips to the empty and secluded air
Color on my cheeks
Panting in my lungs
Nature once provided me a haven I could not describe
Now I have no where to hide
Wrap myself up in a blanket that smells like you
And for a second I try to convince myself...
I am okay.
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Writer Profile
Stacie Brantley
I recently lost my twenty year old brother in a one vehicle car crash. I have been writing since I was almost eleven, but I suppose with perfect understanding my most recent works have involved the death of my brother and my coping. Sometimes it seems that it is my only way of coping. And sometimes I can not even write anything.
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