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She Drinks Drano

Emma Ramey

She said. And such. It’s real sad.

Like how my cat wasted away

until he died and now visits me

in my dreams and pisses on everything.

Thanks, I say. Sad like that.

And sad like the flower pot

I put outside to commemorate spring.

New beginnings and such.

Then the thunderstorm came.

It was like a battle, a battle I say.

Too bad petals aren’t like armor.

Or dreams don’t make everything right,

like razorblades on hold for spring

and life, just life. I tell my cat in my dreams

I’m sorry I threw everything out,

but new beginnings and such. I don’t

know what to tell the flowerpot

if it visits me in my dreams.

Maybe I’d say, Go visit her mother,

tell her it was like a battle, a battle.

Emma Ramey

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