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Left Alone

  • Angelica Canales
  • 1 day ago
  • 1 min read

Eyes watering.

Lights glaring.

Everybody staring.

I do not want to be tabled.

I do not want to be looked at.

I do not want to be on display.

So stuck, so tired. 

Table turning my stomach.

Legs shaky and splintered.

Nowhere to go—Nowhere to hide.


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