I really think that 
I died in Charlotte
a part of me
anyway I lived amongst
bedbugs and around rodents
my food was stolen
my clothes never washed
Everything that I held
important was slowly and
systematically chipped away like
a toddler to a
brick wall and with
each passing day I
felt the bricks of
myself squeeze and fall
tighter together but never
giving way until one
day I pulled what
was left of myself
up declaring no more
With what was left
of the fumes of
hope and with nothing
but the will that
anything would be better
I boarded a plane
and flew to dreamland
But this dreamland in
which I now live
is no dream in
fact it’s my awakening
from the nightmare that
I had lived before

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