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Jan 2021
“Carve our names into the old oak tree,
Lest our love fades” - much like the freedom of summer -
The hollow of my heart,
Casts a deadly shadow on the trash strewn road-
I still feel your cold fingertips on my calf,
Flesh melted away from their burning paths-
Your whispered death threats into my ear-
Still churn my vacant stomach-
I close my eyes to you -
Yet still your image burns into my conscience-
My neck hairs stir and rise -
Wary of your presence - still it lingers -
The parody of a happy household -
Plays - repeatedly - the chilling echos of a woman's laugh-
Litter my mind - like you and your selfish doings-
My head is stiff from lying on your basement floor,
Your hand on my mother’s shoulder - an imprint of fear -
Her sallow face - drained and soulless - your fault entirely-
It’s been years since you’ve kissed me with empathy-
Though, I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore,
As you weren’t the person I was once introduced to.
Bombus
Written by
Bombus  18/F/United States
(18/F/United States)   
113
   Bogdan Dragos
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