Finished Folds (1—6)
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4Scrub till you bleed, wipe those tears, and fill guns with grapes. You've been repossessed, the therapist is in Mali, but your mother listens to Peter Schiff. She has Alzheimer's.
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5with pieces of glass, painted to resemble me and the monsters in the foyer.
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2Machinery. He'd pay for it if it didn't make his gut empty, and heart ache.
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5and so I invented a story. "Monolung" "What?" "I have monolung. There is not much I can do about it, but sure as hell know that gym isn't the way forward"
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7I am not angry. I wish I was, but I'm too old to feel anything but numb. "You know he did try and find you after the march, but Souci you had eyes for everyone but the star"
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1ear of an impeding election, the establishment stood tall, angry, waiting to paint every protestor black and every mother bleak