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About to clock into work. These shoes are digging into my feet. They are black, with elastic straps to tighten them. I walk to the punch clock. I reach out to touch the keys.
I let a boy dictate my happiness. I let a boy wiggle his way into my heart. I let him rest along the softest parts.
You are the backspaced words my tongue retracts The three o clock messages that shouldn't make sense You are the intertwined fingers that feel like there are still spaces there
Fuck you, with the utmost hate. I know you have distain towards me. I'm no fool. I out wit you in front of your pupils and you hate it. The only black student in the class who tries and yet,