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Nylee 2d
Wondering about this
this memory brings up that
that night was so cold
Coldness after the fight
Fought with sharpest words
Words fell like bullets

The day was chilly too
Too silent the next morning
morning light was faded
fading memory but guilt
Guilty feeling blues feel
Felt the silence ****

The evening was short
Short conversation starts
Started random talks
Talked everything but problem
Slowly we forget
Forgotten why we fought

It is a routine
Routine continuing
Continuous cycle running
Run to same beginning
Beginning of another talk
Talk that ends with fight.
Hiding in the shade
Of giants

Your Swiss flags
Make me feel almost
At home again

A mix of old blood:
Kohlers, Bonners, Sweats

And new blood retreating
From Salt Lake City lights

The two mix
As well as A+
And B-

No universal
Donors
Here

The mix
Boils bad
On blue moons

And short
Harvests

Enough
Bad blood
In these two
Small Towns
For an HBO
Series

I sip the cup
A devil's tea

My favorite
Kind
If I Am
Being
Honest today

I have moved
An hour
Away

Back to my
Salt Lake
Roots

But I come back
To Midway
Back to my teens

Often
Lately

Is it the views?
The people?
The chocolate?

The bad
Blood?

Or is it the memories
Pulling me in?

Asking
Me to
Find
Myself
Again?

And
Again?
Midway, Utah
And
Heber City, Utah
ground down smooth and small
I fit nicely among man,
but cut if broken
Grace Haak Sep 2
she
       was
              sharper
                            than
                                    shards
                                                of
                                                    icicle
                                                             glass
m h John Aug 24
pick up the mirrored glass
and let it slip through your hands
and cut up your fingers
on the sharpness
of its truth

let the person in the mirror
talk to you
and explain how
the reflection you see
is only a fragment

of the person
that you used to be
I find myself angry with life.
A low, simmering rage
only too close to a boil.
Once, my mind was
the sharpest of blades,
nothing could stand before me.
Now, it is but a vestigial sort of thing,
a relic of times better remembered.
I am rusted by the monotone
my life has become.
The repetition of every day
comes on as a flood;
I will succumb.
Ivy Leigh Jul 18
My past is moving on from me
Held too long to ever be saved
Already a broken mirror
And I see myself in pieces
So sharp they can cut
A hole where my love used to be
07/17/19
Mark Wanless Jun 20
wolf puppy eats bones
pauses for a moment
sharp teeth
wolf was added at the last minute ?
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