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when I was a child I used to pick the scabs on my knees at night when I couldn't fall asleep scabs I earned on bike rides down hills so steep and long I closed my eyes and took my feet off the pedals I always crashed this was my freedom I never went home crying I blew on the sting and searched for wild blueberries I ate them without wiping the blood from my hands I didn't know then that life would just be this series of forgetting who I was then remembering I used to just close my eyes and trust that the ride would be worth it
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AuthorMichelle Tinklepaugh Archives
April 2023
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