eight tiny pearls to accompany
the papercuts on her fingers
six small papers inked in the tender
heart of a love that lingers
mindworks reach their end as
blank slate overpowers senses.
she can't know what she has lost
for words are unreliable lenses
empty heart follows empty mind
unable to let the lovesicks go
the temps rise and the fevers crash
new worlds bring her to a new low.
won't let go of the treasure in her
balled up fist--it's no time for goodbye.
how could she fall from favor
from heights that were so high
there is a taste of sick, unable to forget
the hurt tongue that can only taste tart
indifference whispers poison in her ear
apathy takes of her broken little heart.
even broken little hearts can be overlooked.
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