HOLE What will fill the void change the past escape the present where's my time machine restless nights groaning stomach need to press delete fulfillment not an option I thought I had escaped guess not it always returns like the moths that munch on the covering of my   favorite chair the hole in my soul expands like the run in my fishnet tights I crawl into my moth eaten chair my body closes tight and I let the sorrow flow
Julia Monturo
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