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Spring Nothings

Well I am trying just to get by and I hope for something more because I am burnt thing who remembers the flames and what it was like to be alive.

Are you really lost? Yes, I think, I say. I haven’t been able to see past this miasma, the grey sky that lives in winter and drags itself into spring. It rained today, small specks of water plopping onto waxy leaves and the lush green grass. I had to squint against it, while I was hurriedly peeling clothes off the clothes lines. It’s refreshing, refreshing as spring rain.

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