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RMatheson
Poems
Nov 2014
The Vanity of Ghosts
I was blowing vapour trails like a dragon,
splitting heart spinning in my
broken head,
when your words arrived.
And you know what?
I have held those
makeup-chasing gestures
down your cheeks
onto your chin
across your chest...
But they meant little as your presence
which never really existed,
did it?
This isn't about you.
This could've been,
but you do not exist.
Written by
RMatheson
M/Beating tired bones
(M/Beating tired bones)
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Awesome Annie
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