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Stitches
I remember back when life was simple
When all I had to do was live.
And I feel the gale
That swept my world away,
Peeling back the waxy foreskin
In favor of the ugly putrefied underbelly.
I remember the pools of crimson
That took you from me.
And your spidery dead veins
Collapsing beneath my fingertips.
I remember how it felt to be alone
To know you were out of my reach.
Just below that surface of life
I wouldn’t dare to break.
And the dripping scores of misery
Piled on my weak and emaciated shoulders.
I remember the page breaks,
The tear-filled songs full of heartbreak
The stained glass window that reminded me of you
The ring of green beneath your friendship bracelet.
And the little girl
With her big brain and misty eyes
And her broken heart,
Being hand stitched by those who loved her,
One painful little thread at a time.
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