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look
ill drink and ill drink
until his hands no longer feel like his
and his face is him no more
i will feel him against me and i will grit my teeth
and shut my eyes and whisper to myself that it is you
ill keep drinking
until i open my eyes and its your eyes i see
he looks at me and he touches me
but i cannot feel the same
i want to be ok
but my insides are frozen
no amount of warmth from this stranger can melt the hurt you left in your wake
i trusted you
he wants me
i cant have you
so ill drink
and ill drink
until i cannot open my eyes
to see who is loving me now
 Apr 2017 Edward Coles
Gidgette
I dwelt under the red current of the River Heartbreak
A black stone, polished by time and tears
Tossed to the depths by a cruel child for a passing glimpse of his entertainment
Pieces of Eight saw the dark shine of times polish
He bent, lifting a single broken piece of Ebony from the hearts blood
Smiling at the shining blackness so opposite from he
And while the Ebony stone no longer dwelt in the red
It was still
Ebony
And he was still
Pieces of Eight
Pieces of Eight is a synonym for gold and a metaphor for something non-existent.
You broke me

So you could use my pieces

To fix yourself
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