Broken
How frail the heart is
when it's about to break.
You could crush it like a dead
leaf, dry and brittle. How the leaf
crumbles delicately
into bits of detritus that break
down smaller and smaller
as the pressure rises. I know
you don't love me. But I
am a fool, a shadow
that dances under
a candle. I can't breath
as I lay like Giles Corey.
What will make this better?
There is nothing.
17:23
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