My waking hours are full of
Visions and memories of
Accidents, falls, hurts
I try to read
And see buses colliding
I close my eyes
And hear them screech
I sit still
And feel them
Hurtling into me
From every side
Squeezing me
Like i feel
Shards of glass
Under my feet
Rubble and wreckage
Under my hands
I expect to not sleep well
For fear of these visions
And yet my dreams are full
Only of longing
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