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  • Writer's pictureEmily Donoher

I WAS JUST A CHILD





This morning I woke to a storm that started in the sky and crept into my chest, and now I'm bleeding rain. Shame straddles and smothers me until my ribs crack and my lungs deflate like a black balloon. I feel a certain expectancy for the worst to happen, and by god, if manifestation is a true thing then I am doomed, a self-fulfilling prophecy and I plead that you forgive me in advance for the foolish things that I have done. I was just a child. I was just a child. I was just a child. 


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