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 Jan 2019 Amy Childers
Angharad
Like the needle that drives through my heart, you glisten in the sun.
You sparkle and shine like a jewel in the light.
I see myself in the mirrored image.
A reflection so small and insignificant I am lost under your thumb.
This needle becomes encased deeper into my heart.
I cannot retract it because the thread has been lost.
Spindled into a web of unfortunate lies.
Powerful sentences that hold no authority.
If you hug me this needle causes me pain.
So why do I still yearn for your touch.
Like drugs.
I am dying from the addiction.
Being crippled by the want.

So crush me like a flower under foot.

Close me like a finished book.

End me like a summer spent.

Lose me like time that came and went.
Old writings that seem relevant today

— The End —