Cement
either drown with me or let me in,
let me in, let me in, let me in, let me in, let me in,
my tears hit the cold lonely paved cement,
and feel like cement,
and taste like cement,
and stick to my skin
like cement, but,
let me in,
let me in,
let me in,
let me in,
let me in,
I get back into the room to finish writing
Copyright © Chante Reeves | Year Posted 2017
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