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by
Eliot
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0o
Poems
Jun 2018
Ex nihlio
A picture of Paris, that white wedding gown,
We lit one more candle and burned it all down,
Tangled in tightropes, deceived by our scars,
Serving our sentence behind faded bars,
A penchant for poison, a toast to good health,
And the voice that I hear when I talk to myself,
A dance with delusion, still playing our role,
Carving some shape out of that empty hole,
A lonely motel room, a twice-broken heart,
I was who you were back when you fell apart,
The sweet taste of surrender, a casket you built,
A road paved with ashes and blood-colored silt,
Of time and the river, a Manhattan sunset,
I write to remember what she drinks to forget,
Count on cold fingers, whittled down to the bone,
All the noise that I made to not feel so alone.
#life
#time
#thoughts
#regret
#loneliness
Written by
0o
Tennessee
(Tennessee)
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