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Platitudes at the Breakfast Table

If I bled out in front of you
would you finally see the goodness in me?
What will it take to resurrect the person I am inside from the hollows of your eyes?
I'm suffocating at the pressure of you obligatory love
confined by propriety and severed from my spirit
Cant you see my fingers turning blue?
Cant you hear my desperate gasps?
These tortured lungs’ salvation lies in one breath of forgiv...

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