a cyclical but irregular
near catatonia where
all i can do is crumple
inside and remember

my teeth clench as
my body prepares
for the tears
my eyes won’t shed

encircled in the ghosts
of my pain, i lie alone
with the memories
no one shares


my nails claw at
my skin in frus-
tration as i wilt
and await

the bloom again,
that i know will
come at the very
first drop.

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