Poem 59

I feel weak for not being the version of me

Who understands and copes with what has gone wrong

The version who accepts that pain is good and that

Bottling only causes harm.

I hate that I can’t be free from these thoughts

Taking over my mind like a wraith

Digging into the trenches and

Pouring concrete to make them stay.

Breaking the thoughts is the hardest thing

Aside from surviving with your loss

I wish I could break the pain of my heart

Now that my love is lost.

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