..complications, predicaments, liaisons, fragments, idioms and expressions.
The first gasp for air,
it wasn’t you holding me
as we danced under stars
It was my heart
under attack.
The sweet coppery blood
that pooled on my tongue
as I cried out in pain
so only the
dead could hear.
All the grief that swallows us whole is pooling over the edges and bleeding into everything; changing the shape of what it touches.
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