poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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Ian darling,

i grew up spoiled.
i replaced those pesky feelings
with the items i would
inevitably receive (everydayallday).
& when YOU walk out
that rusty door
(which i hate but
not quite enough to fix it)
it squeaks and squeals
like my inner child, who
has a tantrum when
she can't get what she wants.


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