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It’s not the heartbreak that screams.
It’s the silence that follows.
The way someone becomes a stranger
while their memories still live in your chest.
How they laugh with others the way they used to with you—
and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
You act okay.
You smile.
But inside, you're mourning someone who’s still alive,
just no longer yours.
the
smell
of the
barbecue grill
taunts
my hunger pains
I walk on by
uninvited
with no place
to
go.
I wish I could say
yes, five years sober!
not a drop of a drink
In five years, look at me go!
instead,
I'm five years drunk.
soft
candle's
glance
on
amber
rings

the
moist
temple
where
­blon­d
hair
clings

dark
whiskey
eyes
under
chandelier's
swings

t­he
­single
note
where
a
cello
sings

i
stop
and
contemplate
these
­th­ings

unlike
puppets
we
had
no
strings

no
we
had
golden
nighte­n­gale

wings


soulsurvivor aka
write of passage aka
invisible inc
(C) 8/32/2015


a poem about my first love

i still think about him
from time to time
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