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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1295822
My best friends son
Baby’s breath becomes my noose
My roots keep pulling me further, further
Further from your heartbeat
Closer to this reality
That has taken you from me

My absolution. My salvation.
Sinking further down the rabbit hole
Tiny hands and feet of grace
No longer feel the warmth
That engulfed me when you smiled

Everyone’s cries become whispers
While a man speaks of heaven
How much more of this am I expected to bear?
Selfish. I’m so selfish.
Your poor mother without her anchor

Sharp gusts of wind move through me
As if I were as precious as the earth
The earth that has welcomed you
The earth that has denied me more than once
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