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Aug 2020
Wipe blood off of my hands,
Pick up the needle.
And find a spool, full, of thread.

Pierce the eye,
From either side.
So I can begin, mending my head.

In and out,
Pass the string.
While catching memories with meaning.

It's just the start,
Next is my heart.
Laying in a pool of lost time,
On my bed.
Rob K
Written by
Rob K
58
 
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