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Bone shards of our imaginary life
break loose from time to time.
Shredding their way
through my bloodstream,
they rip and tear at the fabric of my carefully pieced together reality.

I loved a quieter version of you.
A place where broken hearts held true.
And hands were firm, but nice, though strong.
A place where voices could belong.

I loved you in a fairy tale, a place where laughter was strong and hale.  I loved you in a tiny place, where no one knew your splintered face.

I loved you once, in a country song,
I loved you, loved you, till the dawn,
When truth erupted from each pore.
Your fists broke through the bathroom door.

How many moments locked in time,
Pictures of,
"I am yours," and,
"You are mine."
A fairytale written inside my head.
Our love affair was always dead.


And if I could only separate
The you I loved
From the you I hate,
Would it smooth those shards
Of broken bone
Of twenty years together,
But always alone?

*I loved the quieter version of you.
On my journey of discovery
I've realized that,  sometimes
the weight of one's words are harder
to bear than one might expect
Please stop playing games
isn't my heart bruised enough?
have I not bled rivers
for you to bathe in?

“I am not a toy”
and when you twist the knife
I feel it

I need peace
and your song
keeps me swimming
to the deep end of despair

Please stop laughing
once you've made me cry
these tears taste like oceans
and I am more than ready
to drown in them
when liquid starlight formed
in his eyes
and trickled into
the formed cracks in my palm,
I was no longer sure
if I was his moon
or just a cast reflection.
he typed the night sky in colours
that have yet to exist,
and stars that have yet to shine,
lived amongst the shadows
of burnt up poetry lying dead
on cold bathroom floors.
he called it artistic, metaphorical perhaps,
as he searched for empty answers
at the bottom of the glass.
to dream of "love",
and title it literature,
was to breathe.
she liked her liquor darker
than the backstreet beat poetry
she read in the cracks
of so few hearts.
she kissed storms and they hit
her back. she called it love.
she collected tears in bottles
and whispered that it was wine,
while the world ignored her,
breathed her in
and spat her out into ***** motels,
with broken mirrors
for broken hearts.
Nonexistent you
You make me want to see the next day
You make me love every minute of life
You make my heart feel lighter
You remind me how dark I am
You make me want to open up to love and life

Just like you're nonexistent, these feelings are too
;-;
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