Letter

It’s 9:40 am and I’m sitting on my bed absorbing the chaos in my mind. Believe me, even I’m surprised.

I’m still alive somedays. Lately you remind me of a wild thing chewing through its foot. But you are already free and I don’t know what to do except trace the twinkle in your eyes while you smile and try not to place blame. 

Here is the truth: It is hard to be in love with someone who is in love someone else. I don’t know how to turn that into poetry.

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