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May 12
little pockets of dread.
Grey and cold.

I'm a withering leaf,
in the painful process of letting go.

My skin tears.
Flakes of despair falling in winter.

My heart cracks,
bark besides the road.

Came from far turned into a long way home.

Footprints through the mud,
woven shoelaces from dried grass.

An abandoned heart.
Soul shelters in an empty chamber.

Tears in a storm.
Grief hiding amongst drops.

In the presence of lastig absence,
thoughts staring at an empty canvas.

Little pockets.
Written by
SirReal  Netherlands
     keaoss, SirReal and Fawn
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