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I said something about bile and venom
and how I made a home for it now, in
the pit of my stomach, where bad thoughts
and harsh words festered.
And he replied no. You are just so
desperately sad. There is nothing I can do.
I didn't think it showed.
So I spent all night looking up other
people's photographs. Which is a comforting
thing to do, because their happinesses, not tainted
by my own memories, seem happier than I have ever
been.
It's so cold in this part of the house, my
muscles clench-up and I can't stop shivering.
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