She always jumped from relationships,
Feeling that the better people knew her
The less likely they’d love her.
Maybe you know that feeling.
But eventually,
There was no one left to jump to.
Walking gingerly through a haunted existence,
Smiles flickering at best —
Standing outside at sunrise,
She holds what warmth she can close to her heart,
As autumn whispers overhead —
Maybe you know that feeling?
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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