#59

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Crashed berries in
hands , scattered
glass at our feet ,
petals in mouths
and dried lips on
collarbones .
pieces of what we
were flash in front
of me in blur , we
are everywhere ;
in the bottom of
a half drunk cup ,
in the apple seeds
we used to grow
together in the
garden , in the
shirt you left lying
beside the bed ,
and in the letters
you put under my
pillow .
At night the walls
echo our screams ,
reminding me of
every promise we
tried to keep and
every lie that
slipped through our
teeth .
I spent years trying
to squeeze words
out of you , while
you spent them
snatching the pen
from my hand
every chance you've
got .
my fear of losing you
always pushed me to
see you as the boy I
had to cage between
lines , and your lack
of patience made you
treat me as the book
you would never dare
to pick up .
the stars used to curse
us every midnight , yet
we didn't stop loving
for we lived on the edge
of a broken dream .

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