Crushed Apple

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The white noise of my room is looming.

My chest feeling like  a crushed apple.

Memories, like sharp razors

Cut through certainties.

We walked hand in hand 

Across the frozen lake. 

you watched me drawing  funny little people in the snow 

and I was yours

Delightfully 

Utterly. 

Your astringent absence grows larger by the hour

Long, salty tears melting the lake we walked on

Our story drowning.

 

 

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Author: My Little Incredible Life

Interested in the mind, the soul and how them two get on. I will try and explore a few experiences, some good some bad, some mine, some other's but I will write with honesty and truthfulness

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