Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Days of the Month

My heart hangs heavy
Weighted by the world
some parts may no longer work as designed
Broken
this perfect machine
and no New Years resolutions are fixing it

I return to it like a drug
An addiction
A strange fixation
Sadness is a comfortable home
The food is good and familiar
the bed warm
The pillow tear stained
and no one cares if I murder Love while it sleeps
all warm and cozy in its sheets

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