Wednesday, April 3, 2024

 You've been the veins of my poetry since I met you

I worried that the day you left me here, I would be stuck with a stubborn, unwilling pen that refuses to write about you if the ending between us wasn't happy

I've been ripping the pages of this journal, gutting it like you did to me.

This pen, my journal

are the only memories between us I am willing to keep


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