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Bisque Jar

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I was naive to
think that you would hold on,
even as I grind my fingers to bone
and flesh, refusing to let go.

Eyes cast me off, and
hands separate from mine.

I was never
good enough,
I was always too far.

Even when
My heart and lungs become
Glass shards,
And I start shattering
piece
by
piece
falling into
the
sea,

The memories of you
are left
untouched.





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