Flowers
More by elise.writer
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renewal (rough draft)
in space, the atoms found their mark
somewhere far from everybody's heart
from then on, on a purge to the deep end
you persist, someone told you the answer
lies under 6 feet of sea sand.
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fragile foundation
every twist of inadequacy's blade
(each one worse than the previous)
fell in a rhythmic order, one that your silence
carried in. did you hate me?
you'd never say so. so blindly, i never changed.
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