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a womb, expanded and grown to shape around a baby's bottom
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the floor boards creak underneath my toes a small acknowledgment that i am still here
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I thought of you yesterday
A smile spread across my chapped lips
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the sun is radiating from
within my skin
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Your voice sings me into a lullaby A recollection, a faded memory
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There’s silence in the snow A safe haven for thoughts unwilling to be thought out loud
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There’s condensation on the window A pane of glass separating cozy warmth and frigid cold
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the air has gone cold again leaves falling to blanket
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There is sadness in her smile A nostalgia bittersweet
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The words of your verse Like ink in my skin
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if there was a way to tell you every moment, every memory
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My fingers have slipped from yours
As the winter of our lives has set in
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There are simple moments
No anger, no blame
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There are four rings
One for each time she's forgotten me
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The phone rings
And voicemail answers
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You are sleeping
Beside me
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Remember that time you rubbed my feet
When I came home from work?
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There's blood underneath my nails again
Turning my hands a rust color
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There used to be a light on
A small shimmer of something beyond
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Smoke rolls off the car hood
The wind carrying it away
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My eyes can't see your face anymore
On my lips is only the taste of your lies
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There are days that pass by without a thought of you
A memory lingers, but never the bitter taste
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This is not a poem. Nor a column. More of a letter, I suppose. I remember when I used to ask myself the same things. And I find it ironic that something to do with my past regarding this just creeped up to bite me yest
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You hide behind your diagnosis
You always have
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You've forgotten the evenings I spent with you
The mornings I sang with you
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The air is compressing our lungs
It's hard to breathe in
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When I met you:
There was an instant
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I lay in bed beside him
Thinking of you
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Your heritage seeps into my veins
I am becoming the hero I never was
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There are moments I miss you
Wondering who we would have been
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Can you feel the venom?
It’s spilling out of me
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Your cryptic words
Roll of your twisted tongue
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Your breathing has settled into my heart / A blanket that wraps me in a familiarity / Of home / Even the darkness of the night / Cannot pen
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Your face fills me with memories / And regrets / I see your smile and wonder / Why was it never that with me? / I don't know you anymore /
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There are some days that are harder than all the others... / / Days when triggers are pulled to unloaded guns. / / Days when getting out of bed is the biggest accomplishment and hardest thing to do. / / Days wh
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