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Bisque Jar
April 5, 2010
I was naive to
think that you would hold on,
even as I grind my fingers to bone
and flesh, refusing to let go.
Eyes cast me off, and
hands separate from mine.
I was never
good enough,
I was always too far.
Even when
My heart and lungs become
Glass shards,
And I start shattering
piece
by
piece
falling into
the
sea,
The memories of you
are left
untouched.
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