You wear her on your skin.
Her darkness overshadows your light.
People recognize you as a pair,
And you cannot bear to tell them that she broke your heart, but
your neighbours know.
When you come home with a grocery bag – no groceries; you’ll cry
and curse her angelic name.
You hate the music only
because she taught you how to love dancing.
You wear her on your skin.
You’re unintentionally content with this being,
You live in quiet chaos.

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