It hurts like too many days of rain.
Like paper cuts inside
And all around the rims of your dry eyes.
The maggots crawl within your chest,
Your heart is lost
In between boxes and little memories
Of saying things to someone
Who didn’t fully take them to heart.
It feels like mothballs in a piano.
A casket in the rain.
An empty church and
A ring on a dead hand.
It festers like a sore
Inside your head and in your core
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