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P Chartier
Poems
Jan 2013
I Cannot Breath
Your words are
pins; slowly puncturing my growing,
open heart.
Your smile
is a mask, hiding the forked instrument that sounds like
breaking glass.
Your blood was
the wine that I couldn't help but drink every night slowly growing
dependent.
Your thoughts were
carbon monoxide to my mind, which forced me to
sleep away...
Written by
P Chartier
New York
(New York)
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