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Monday, November 2, 2020

In The End

In the end,
there is only the branch,
and the loop on the branch,
and I hanging in it.
I wonder if, in the end,
I have loved too much,
so much
that I had to kill you,
and then kill me also,
for still it was
not enough.
Angelica Bustle
Topic(s) of this poem: love,death,death of a friend
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COMMENTS
Deluke Muwanigwa 02 November 2020
Lovely poem. Macabre cold as death but beautifully woven. Hopefully just a poem.
0 0 Reply
Angelica Bustle 03 November 2020
So glad you liked it! Of course it's just a poem - I often empathize with other ppl and write from their perspective, bc, for a brief moment, I feel what they feel. It's good it was that convincing though :)
0 0 Reply
Kostas Lagos 02 November 2020
I love this poem! To my list!
0 0 Reply

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