Poem #86

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Instead, I don't want to move so I force myself
not to eat so I can fall back into that hole. I enjoy the hole. I couldn't even tell you how to heal. My mom says I'll go nowhere if I continue to live like this. But I don't have an urge to be anywhere to make anything of myself. If I could I'd rot away in this bed. But they won't let me. If I could I'd crash my car into a telephone pole but something always stops me.

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