Susan Dwinchick Poet I do not know?

Untitled #7 9-13-04

Why do I speak of my pain
when I know you'll judge me?
I should keep it to myself,
locked away,
But it's too much to handle
to enclosed it.
It escapes through the cracks
Pours out from my mouth
And I destroy the secerey
that I try to build.
I call out, I think for help,
Knowing I'm just too weak
But no one can't save
A lost,
worthless soul.

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