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fluids
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Soma
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i was born in the wet of the womb dried warmly and wrapped in sterile delivery room I looked out to the world with no deafening cry until i was carried away and with trembling sigh came rivers and streams of the tears a thing that forever would flow through my years
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Soma
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so I wept and god bottled each drop a frustrating choice as Id rather they stop the pastor says that I need to fully accept how despite all that bible only once jesus wept i never felt holy but cried a lot more but not on a cross just cold tile floors
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Soma
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all my tears werent enough there was red staining porcelain bowls and my childhood bed
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Soma
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I accepted this fate as inevitable death come to me
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Soma
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and the crying would end at a cost - only me
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Soma
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but the red birthed a new me a loon and the crying I had would increase with each moon So I counted the days on a chart but like crying for me there was never a start nor an end just a terrible forever always ongoing part
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what's it to you?
who
go
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blather
from
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