Destruction and Decay
lingering in memories.
My imaginative play.
Blemished.
Bruised.
With Each day - weak.
Months,
Years pass
Internal wounds
Ageing, breathing deep
in this blood filled vessel - exquisite pain.
Seeping through these pinpricked walls
Tragedy and beauty
does fall.
Caught up and trapped in inside hollow jars
for these empty eyes
from which silent tears
cease to cry.
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