Thursday, January 25, 2018

To Larry

One hundred and fifty six
And that's not even close to the number of ways
You can break someone
Not like your favorite fallen cup
Shattered into a million little scars
No
This is like breaking the very letters that make
Why oh you
Whole
This is like shooting an automatic weapon
Through the flesh of the darkest densest sky
And still not seeing a single star shine through
This is like cutting your nails into millimeter sized pieces
While they're still attached to the bloody tips of your fingers
Fingers
Fingers can move, touch, feel this way?
Fingers can break this way?
And then when you're done breaking
You realize there's nothing left inside of you to fix
You're the grimy leftover of forgotten glue
Incapable of holding anything together
Least of all, you

851

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