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Saturday, January 17, 2015

Wounds

every time i remember you exist
i salt my tongue
every word i said to you
is an open wound

sometimes i think of you
and i look at my scabs
i've had them for years
i should see a doctor

you're always far from my mind
until you're right between my eyes
like the pistol i pointed at you
like the shotgun you pointed at me

(you shot first)
Kayci Lamb
Topic(s) of this poem: sad love
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1/17/2021 1:41:37 AM # 1.0.0.396