Those times when you’re feeling too much 

and speech gets lost in the folds of fatigue. 

When you’re feeling too much and can’t call a friend, 

or stomp it off, or sit in a park and stare through trees. 

When you’d trudge to the corner shop, if you could, 

hoard jam rolls and wine for crying; 

walk for hours outside the neighbourhood,

stand rounds at a pub you never set f...

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