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Li-ke-Ho-rn-bl-ow-er-sl-ed-er-ho-se-n

Twenty-six hundred miles from now,
my life will have changed,
incontrovertibly; what’s more,
irrevocably. And your life too.

I feel a bit like I’ve been pulled into the wrong war. My body ripped to shreds over a conflict that is not, fundamentally, mine. So do soldiers feel on the battlefield: whose war is this?

I’ve got a lot of anger now,
that I need to learn to deal with.
I’ve got too much silence that
I need to learn to control;
or let go. It leaks from my pores.
Expect from me but silence,
at least for a little while.
I have no marks to differentiate:
my silence from my noise.

Goodbye; Farewell, Ohio.
Partings are bitter,
salty. I hope that when I emerge,
newborn, on the new frontier;
that you will see a stronger side of me.

“I am here to live out loud.”
-Emile Zola

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