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Sep 20
me a river that flowed to the sea
could cry in my cup for eternity
cry until the sun burns the earth
till every baby’s birth has seen
them grow old as the mountains
painfully stinging cold as the snow
and you’d sit and shake your head
as if you can’t grasp a thing I said

I could cry
me a thick ink sky
shooting a billowing black cloud
as the octopus
punching my fists in the air
my tears so jagged
they cut down the trees
and you’d take umbrage at my pain
as if I turned your glitter into lead
poking holes in your made-up bed

I could cry
out splinters
cutting my eyes
til the bloods spill
into all your lies
and you’d lay drenched
in a pool of red
standing as a blade of grass
till I passed over you like a mower
as if this could make the pain
move slower
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  56/F
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