i've got a cupboard with cans of food.
filtered water and pictures of you.
and i'm not coming out until this is all over.
and i'm looking through the glass...
where the light bends at the cracks.
and i'm screaming at the top of my lungs.
pretending the echoes belong to someone.
someone i used to know.
and we become shillouettes when our bodies finally go.
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