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I Could Not Keep Up
Attempting to revive them
I felt my nostrils fill
With the bloodiness of their deaths
Determined I kept digging
My fingernails full of stench
of her hopelessness and despondency
You are in there! I told her.
I remember you.
But the problem is, she didn’t.
No matter how much muck and grime
I extracted from her beliefs,
I could not keep up.
She was a maestro at
generating self-deprecating
beliefs that kept her dendrite highway full of self-loathing
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
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