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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Emotional · #1123871
i long for the warmth
at last the overturning, over pouring, overreaction to a justice so unjustifiable

it hurts to think about where it is you could be right now.

i feel wholly unholy; unwhole.

the lengthy shattering of my eye glasses is what's ruining my view, surely it's not

you.

whenever i'm alone, without you, i feel like

it feels like

it must be that i am unclean.

the dirt under my nails,

the stains on my skin,

the calloused feet of a calloused heart.

the aching is what makes me run,

the aching makes it easier.
© Copyright 2006 Adela LaRoue (a_sublime_mess at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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