reclaiming
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The things I lost
Are vast.
Difficult to name,
Harder to think about
Without anger bubbling up the well in my chest
-
Whole years are smoke.
Memories, good and bad,
Swirling into empty space,
I have memories attached
to curves in the
road, moments encapsulated by
long strentches of highway. They
return briefly to existence as
I travel them;
anxiety trembling in
