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Stuck. Warm. My arm extends above in an awkward salute to the transport gods. Headphones press uncomfortably against my neck. My only comfort switched off. We are Over-populated today. Everyday? You spit at me with your words. I cannot move. Move me if you want, that’s the only way we’ll get to a different point.
I could not live here. I love here.
About the Creator
Emily Sara Andrews
Performer, Artist, Arts Facilitator, part-time poet and occasional spinner of yarns, not necessarily in that order.
Living and working in Stoke-on-Trent she takes inspiration from the wild, the weird and the ordinary.
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