Wednesday, May 04, 2011


I sift my thoughts
Through the debris of the past
A heap clumped
with the moistness of my tears
I gather cysts of pain
Malignant, life taking -
Know not what they would come to mean.
I dig the graves
Of buried hopes
Cry over the remnants
And mourn the loss.

Is this getting them back?
Or letting them go?

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