Love Poem
I was doing alright,
but now I’m not.
Bottled up and broken again
soon to be born
into another day of what.
No seriously, what?
The sign might come out,
or it might not.
I was thinking
about love at the end
of another day. Really
thinking about it.
Crazy.
Crazy to see red and want it to be last. Stupid,
Probably,
to tell you about it.
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