Who will be the Glue?

With trembling hands and a runaway heart,

I finally confess

He was never good for me.


Over time,

The lacerations He left became

As deep and as vast as the most cavernous canyon.

The abrasions that materialized upon my flesh were

Transpired into every chamber and hallway of my heart.


This tender abuse of my Body

Had mutated into a rapacious looting of my Soul.


I allowed it because of Love.

I allowed it in order to gain reprieve

From the sighs of the Loneliness.


Band-Aid “I Love Yous” and half-assed hugs will not fix this.


I was, and continue to be, a

cracked plate.


He refused to let me down easy.


This poem is about: 


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