Saturday, February 15, 2003

Valentines Day

He's not supposed to want this.

But he does.

I have never liked him.

I don't think I ever will.

But I'm tired of seeing him

everywhere.

In the mirror.

In my shadow.

In the waking weight of the morning.

Like lost parts, hidden pieces,

and fragments

stuck together,

we go to bed,

knowing that the crack within

is only getting bigger.


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