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Aromatherapy
August 23, 2016
You crushed all of my petals with your fists,
all of the pieces of me I wanted you to have.
I started pressing flowers into books
because if I can control the pain
it makes it easier to handle.
Stale,
crumbling,
distant.
I am distant
lost in the spine of a book
because I can control the pain
but never when it involves you.
© Marissa M., Rockford, MI
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