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Jan 2016
We’ve held onto secrets like sweets
the last ones at the bottom of the bag,
I’ve held hands with mirror images
turned away from lies,
stripped bare of the stories in my eyes
I’m holding back butterflies
and turning over in bed
thinking of hands and smells.
I’m clutching at floating words
thinking of things to say
filling a silence with more.
I thought I saw the future in a teacup
I’m just tasting the past on repeat
it’s never quite the same but
it never really was.
Martha O'Brien
Written by
Martha O'Brien  UK
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