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I want my mommy.

it
breaks
my
heart.
I picked up the phone
already knowing who I'd hear.
Already knowing my dad would answer
And I had no real place.
I waited till the ringing stopped dead.
Heard a muffled and tired hello
from his room in the basement below.
I held the phone up to my ear
and could only endure a few seconds
a broken spirit behind a strained voice
The voice of a defeated soul
unappreciated and alone
in a prison of her own flesh and blood
in close proximity
all pulled tight like guitar strings
along a neck with the name 'moving day'
but this instrument of sorrow
offers no music
only a harsh mash up of voices all screaming
for their own supremacy.
And I see her wire of sanity being pulled
and pulled some more
I can hear the tremors of her voice
about to break.
she's about to break.

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