writing
without any reason
mostly
though it was your treason
that
tethered me to talking rhymes
investigating
all your crimes
a
broken heart’s a work of art
never
completed once it starts
just
when we think we’re on the mend
the
suturing comes to an end
not
only does the thread unravel
but
used to drag you through gravel
and
every truth becomes a lie
but
still we try to satisfy
and
please a world that’s sick and wrong
to
find somewhere that we belong
becoming
brunts of all their jokes
as
new found friends become a hoax
cutting
you off cause they don’t care
about
the you you want to share
your
shattered heart become a mess
on
floors tiled with loneliness
***
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