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Click hereSands of grain
Grains of sand
Stream from a closed hand
Streaming from the hand
Downward
Ground-ward.
Mindless activity to occupy my mind
Doesn’t.
What piece of me did you rip out?
A pound of flesh;
Desire,
Drive,
Gone with it.
Pragmatic reasoning
Is unreasonable.
Don’t ask me to think
Because my thoughts
Scratch out broken
Against the needle
Repeating as required
Bitter elixir
Mixed with tears.
I think it has it all. Got a nice layout and beat and
covers the subject well. sandspike
an inate feel for the rhythm of grief and living.
I love how your words seem slow and measured like sobs which we try to keep quiet, yet they burst from our restraints in gasps and shaky breath.
Marvellous