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there's a fog in my mind

and bees in my throat

there is a deafening silent pain

to being sick

and things to be done

are sailboats caught on a tide

i am reaching, grasping—

wading through molasses

my voice is locked inside my chest

and my thoughts alongside it

drop it to the bottom of the ocean

may the mermaids guard it

i'll see you when i relearn to swim

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