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Harsh, bright light -  A concussion  Ringing in your ears.  Feelings of regret, Yet of power.  Sorry, not sorry Never apologize
Dear Ryan,   You didn’t know me way back when… I struggled to read with my kin, Mom studied by day and worked by night. Dad held three jobs, struggling with all his might.  
Each breath brings about A life enslaved in shadows Long days of one And time in scattered pieces   Afternoons hunched over
I saw fateful stars, Not twinkling with lullaby dust, But searing, scorching, bright with meteoric impact. I stumbled into black, a murky, messy plight of blurry edges, hollow words.
Like a bad dream Headache a pounding drum Nasuea as if pregnant Dizziness as the world spinning
Hydrate Hydrate Hydrate  so you can heal your brain It might heal my concussion But it may not stop the pain   this is my third concussion It changed my personality THe only repercussion
She comes fast, speeding down the left wing board. A shot, a rocket, to my new facemask. Blackness. Ringing in my ears. No pain. Lord, I do not trust myself to stand. The task At hand – “Cover it” – a voice far away. 
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