I Thought I Was Bottomless

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I Thought I Was Bottomless
by Kevin Elliott

We are not (or are we?),
receptacles
for pain caused by others.

If we are,
no janitor tends to us
or empties us out.

We are filled crumpled plastic,
they empty and we sigh full.
Returning for seconds.

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Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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