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 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
I will write one last
poem which bleed
from my wounds

And in its final verse,
I will write a rhyme,
and say, weeping,
what my heavy
heart truly feels
Not a suicide note.
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
5:05 PM
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
I’m feverishly lonesome,
and my wounded soul
is yearning for its doom

When I leave,
will the orchids in
my room still bloom?
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
Heartless
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
Love is but a terrible pain
that leaves one’s heart in vain
I wrote this line in class and my doctor came to me and asked “What are you writing that could possibly be more important than Peter’s study?”
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
Come!
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
Come,
and lay down your sorrow
along with my solitude,
my heart is yours to break  

Come!
let us abate this
intolerable agony
with lavender tea
and beautiful poetry
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
Longing
 Mar 2020 Clelia Albano
N
I endured your absence
when my heart longed
for your healing presence
The harshest reality
I have to face
Is in my mirror.
I'm not going back in time
To fetch you,
Hurry up.
I know, It sounds crazy.
- But?
- Nothing. It just sounds crazy.
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