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Expressionism – Move On – Winter 2013


Came to reclaim me.
Drove 200 miles searching.
Watching mile markers as they pass.
Recounting each phone call.
The same buildings have stayed grounded.
Reminds me of stability,
And our lack of it.
As the bluffs appear,
They beg me not to jump.
Took it from here,
It’s probably fair to leave it.
Drop it off where it was found.
Give it back.
Maybe regain what was left.
Or just leave it,
With what feels like another hole in my chest.
This place never lets the heart rest.
Beating fast,
Wheezing,
Fast breathing,
Too many cigarettes this evening.
And your memory,
It still isn’t fleeting.

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