I wake up every morning and feel sad because people eat animals
I feel soft
I am a blanket
a thin white blanket
I will cover the animals and hide them in my soft whiteness
I just spun around in my chair
I’m looking at my bed
I hate this poem
I want to put myself over my head and cut holes in myself for eyes
if I cut holes in myself I’ll bleed everywhere
but at least I’ll be able to see
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