Late Night Blues

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Loss and loneliness
have empty, open skins,
hungry bones begging flesh.

I weave them wrappers of words,
cages of colons,
locks of full stops,
so that they might step outside me
and live within the lines instead.

[AN]- This is why I write. I write away my negative emotions; I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. And now that I don’t have that pain, I find it harder and harder to find inspiration. I’m just too happy to write!

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One response to “Late Night Blues

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