You fall asleep,
My hand to your cheek
At first it seems sweet
Then I think of blander motives
Am I interrupting your rest?
Is this just a unwillingness to move?
Then you pull my hand to your chest
Bringing it to rest, part of me on you
Where I should always have been,
And I remember what love feels like again.
Breaking, upwards of the truth-
to the grit,
the pieces beneath.
The essence of sadness, combined with
shock and spittle through angst and hatred.
Break, in the utmost foundation;
the line in the undusted,
the crack in the gateway.
by the bind,
seeping, the cold truth
and you wake up,
wet and alone
unknown and blissful,
gone from the grip.
Ruined by words.
Break – up.
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