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Broken Wings, Broken Things
The chocolate melted
before I could eat it
and you left before
I could fathom the word
goodbye.
Now the ghost of
your love haunts me while
I sleep; while I walk
around this empty city,
and when it rains.
You always loved the rain.
I keep forgetting to buy
new laundry detergent
but maybe I forget on purpose
because even though I hate thinking
of you every time I smell
my own clothes
it’s the only comfort I
have left of you.
Instead of changing our greeting
on the answering machine
I simply unplugged it
because I can’t bear to hear
us when we were happy
but I can’t bear deleting
those memories either.
I was walking in the park
the other day
and I felt a bullet just miss
my heart.
You were standing on the bridge
with a girl, pearing down at
the swans in the water.
I watched the the lovely creatutes
as well and envied them for the
short, simple lives they were given.
Swans were beautiful,
they never had to worry about
how to get up and out of bed and
face the world each morning.
I would much rather have a broken wing rather than a broken heart.
Wings heal and it’s still possible
to fly, in time.
The chain broke on my locket yesterday and I held it in my hand greiving for the last part of you
that I had let myself hold on to.
My grief turned to bitterness
as I realized that the locket,
the chain, was just another
one of your cheap
excuses of showing your love.
Like short letters, kisses instead of answers, wilted flowers,
and melted chocolate.
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