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May 2014
He says he
loves me
but I
wish he would
make himself
stop
for there is
no life in me
to
love back.

I’ve bled
every cell
that pumped my
heart
and flowed
through my veins
into feeding
the memory of you.

There’s nothing left
of me
but a carcass
of shriveled
leathery skin
wrapped around
bone.
Amour de Monet
Written by
Amour de Monet  Houston
(Houston)   
584
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