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Nov 2021
sits as a ton of bricks
in my chest. I can’t breathe. I gasp
for air and flap, as a fish
pulled from its cool water bath.

A broken heart
lays as a heavy sack
on my back. I’m hunched
over. And I move slow
carrying the load. Some days
I don't move at all. It hurts so,
my engines stalled.

A broken heart
weeps in the night under
the corner streetlight. It hangs
its head down as a willow tree
and cleans the sidewalk with
teardrops leaves.
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  56/F
(56/F)   
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