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Management
Unforgiving as a hospital floor
Fried by fluorescents and bleach-
I enjoy the harsh whip
my eyes lay on your skin.
That pained old ache gasping for air
With a handful of salt and ice-
Pry open my ribcage
and give it a breath.
Now older, now wiser
I can put the reeking into verse
Awareness on my brain imprinted hard
Knowledge is an ugly bruise to bear.
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The speaker is trying without success to communicate how they feel. They want to be helped but after not being noticed for such a long time they turn bitter and except they must bear themselves alone.