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confessions of a fallen angel

Violet Hetherington

mother, I’m sorry I stopped calling.

eternity is hard to chew. It gets

stuck in my molars.

inside my head, all I see is

storms. rumbling, thundering,

black as an oil spill. I try to

grasp onto something.

time moves slow and

wild, erratic. please leave my

wings by the door.

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