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     By Lauren Breen

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Wrapping my arms around myself,
I dug my nails deep into my back,
           tore at skin,
                       pulling from the center out
until I was open.
The dust in the air tickled my exposed flesh.
My ribcage, a barrier,
my spine, an obstacle,
erode from the force of an escaping me,
           which pounds against my bones
           like hurricane winds against a palm.
And I was able to free
myself from myself at last.

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