Gone, as if in a puff of smoke, a cheap magic trick, a step
back to where it all started, perhaps to start back, older, but no wiser, perhaps
saddling herself with the same old guilt she felt all those previous times, never
quite good enough, when she clearly is, struck down by fate or ill luck, she
clearly does not deserve, back to the same place every time, only without all
the time she used to have to spend in order to restart again, gone, but not
forgotten, there but not there, starting over again
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