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Her dazed state

no one can make my sunshine smile// her skin burns from her light// her fingertips// her hips// her lips all painted with 3rd-degree burns// joy becomes more common than a pollen allergy in her reign// But like the past leaders, her priority// if they acted as they should// is to demolish then devour the aches of the people// she does not call them hers, they are their own// there were rulers before like there will be rulers proceeding her// her pride doesn’t relinquish the reality from her eyes// she craves; she craves; she craves; she craves rest// her stomach suffers from the inky muck that would dissipate if only she could grab Time and tell him to stop running for a few hours// The people believe her flame is eternal// though in reality her organs have been eaten out// She tells me I love them, but I can’t torture myself much longer. // I tell her, You were assigned a role no one can and no one should live up to. They can find their own for a while.


Aubrielle Caldwell is currently a high school student in Jefferson, GA and officer of the CWC.

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Published in issue 5


Published in issue 5


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