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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

7/ 14/12

I cried the day I murdered you.
Like a broken bird I spread my arms wide to embrace the free air
and tried to endure the pain of flying.
I cried the month I murdered you.
Like a diamond whore I wore my shining smiles to greet each eager customer
but dropped them clattering like chains as I stole up the stairs to my bedroom.
I cried the year I murdered you.
Like a salted wound, my sluggish heart ticks aching with the loss of you.

When I saw your ghost on a sunny Friday at noon, it was as if you'd resurrected me along with you. Since the moment my eyes left yours, the thought of you has been my flight, my smile, the strong beat of my heart, and my own suicide all at once. We float together as ghosts in our secret world.

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