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Ayn
Poems
Feb 2020
Fallen Apart
I just want to cry,
I want to spit my tears upon my pillow,
and cry in my silence for the remainder
of my raven eve.
Why can't I cry?
Where is the salty mix
running down my cheeks?
Why do I feel the tears well up
even though they don't release?
My mask is broken.
the fissure ran its course,
and split my face right open.
Usually I'd be mad or frustrated in times like these, but this time I want to cry (well duh).
Written by
Ayn
20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)
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