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Sundays
Poetry, 2018
to raise suicide awareness.
candles
submerged
in
a
liquid—
gasoline
pale
pink
roses
ripe
with
thorns
rest
in
a
porcelain
vase
matches
slowly
come
to
life
wisps
of
flame
start
to
dance
rope
carefully
tightened,
a
loop
a
noose,
to
be
more
precise
​
she
did
not
want
tinted
red
sheets
her
plan
seems
be
…
working?
roses
scorch
candles
glow
gasoline
burns,
her
head
hangs
low
​
-sundays are my suicide days
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