A.B. Shepherd

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I no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t. The lines between reality and delusion had become so blurred

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I wanted to soothe and comfort her, the way she had comforted her daughters

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I sometimes wish I could spontaneously combust. Burn until nothing but ash is left, to be washed away by the wind and the rain

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What kind of miracle ripped out your heart, and left you breathing?

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I felt like I was living two lives. One in the present and one in the past