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Blue-Gray MAG
I climbed a mountain
and broke in half
all in the course of a weekend.
I’ve locked myself in the bathroom
cold tile, gray walls
and I’m nit-picking at my problems
like I do with my obsessions
obsessions
hair falling out.
You came crashing like a wave
slamming my body on the rough sand
my nose and mouth are filled with salt
but my eyes are clear
clear as a foggy mirror can be
so I wipe the dew from the bathroom mirror
I turn the knob of the bathroom door
waves keep crashing.
Freedom is in my nose,
my mouth,
my eyes.
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