is a
to read poetry
in an examination room,
the tears that begin to well
here are often the product of
fear and dread, not of beauty and
revelation, even the stethoscopes seem
to mock me, reflecting the harsh fluorescent
light back into my depleted eyes, for here is the
place for temporary solutions to permanent problems
and these pages, already in my possession, hold the exact
opposite–I should never step foot unarmed in a clinic ever

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