you rush
into suffering, hell-bent
on saving
the burning
remains
of whatever terror
you once
lived in,
you rest
under blankets
of injustice
you find comfort
in feeling
helpless against
imaginary forces
conspiring to keep you wrapped
in familiar
misery
you're in need
of a radical self-
ectomy
until then
please stay
low to the ground
crawling towards
suffocation or less
likely, safety.
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