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Apr 2019
Not sure which left us more broken,
The first kiss, or the last words spoken,
Both stung our hearts, a phantom pain,
The stench of ghosts in morning rain,
Trapped in a game we didn’t choose,
That neither of us knew how to lose,
So we loaded dice to tip the scales,
Fought with fumes and fingernails,
As strain built up in small degrees,
And finally brought us to our knees.

They say time can heal, but rarely does,
Lost sight of who I thought I was,
A sea of hope left me marooned,
And sunrise only salts the wound,
Now counting walls as vision narrows,
Fighting sleep with slings and arrows,
Held hostage by a fraying thread,
That exists only inside my head,
I left it all to smoke and smolder,
Woke up alone and so much older.

It took a village to raze the child,
Maybe it takes a wolf to tame the wild,
Or a shark to truly know the sea,
So where then does that all leave me?
There is no peace in cheap perfumes,
And no full hearts in empty rooms,
Only dust and unforgiving shade,
Sweet blue lights to dull the blade,
Held hostage in this house of glass,
I tell myself, this too must pass.

Eyes wide open, seared with wonder,
Hold me close to pull me under,
And walk it off with head held high,
A clenched fist cannot wave goodbye,
Sic transit sunlight, pirouette,
Embrace all that you can’t forget,
That fading ember, tarnished gold,
The remnants of the soul you sold,
Shall rise from under ash and boot,
Unclean, less pure, but resolute.
Jack
Written by
Jack  San Diego
(San Diego)   
109
   Cheyenne
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