Lucy Dacus
familiar place
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I came through the backyard.
You let the garden die.
How did I get here?
How did I get here?
What did I do to deserve this?
The mountain was taller than I couldâve fathomed.
I hardly believe it from here at the bottom.
I canât imagine why youâd want to be at the top.
Oh my god, what will I do if you ever stop?
Without you, I am surely the last of our kind.
Without you, I am surely the last of my kind.