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Untitled
October 2016
I've got memories filed, archived, put away
Words waiting to be said in your voice
To be prodded and pressed, like the dull ache
Of a bruise
My bruise
My blunt feeling
My pain that aches
It belongs to me
And for some reason
The only part of Medway that feels like it was left to me
Is the gas station placed between campus and Chatham
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