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once my mother told me she saw demons outside our window. i knew she was drunk and in a daze, the alcohol corroding her blood, clouding over her pupils. but now, sober, i can see them too. they lurk on our balcony, hunching over our furniture, black blood oozing on the wooden floor. i want to shut my deluded eyes and pretend they were never there but i can still see their silhouettes behind my maroon eyelids.
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