feelings are a bitch

Poetry rant.

it’s devastating-
this need to be found
till the time I’m lost
and the urgency, to disappear
when I’m visible on still ground.

what they failed to understand
was that he had branches of attachment
that stretched out, invisibly,
with their ends reaching out
to coffins of life
that hosted a death of relationships
he had managed to collect.
so what if the branched ends
had stuck to them a
carved knife
that spilled silver blood
every time it tried to give life.


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