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posted May 14, 2019, 8:06 AM by Suchandra Chatterjee   [ updated May 14, 2019, 9:31 AM ]
Amber woke me up at 5.
You are lost; it said.
You've shredded yourself in tiny little pieces.
And sent them off to war.
To fight among each other and die without any-
You've held yourself at gunpoint;
Hostage, hands tied. 
Face gaged with a crumpled plastic bag since 1856.
You scream unintelligible words: incessantly;
A distraction from the stench in your own pants.
You've shat yourself in this torture room
That you created, brick by brick.
And named it home.
The many yous are more afraid than a lost little boy.