I’m wrapped in your sweater,
it doesn’t fit the same
and your scent has long since gone;
filtered, clogged,
sitting in pipes that lie
at the very foundation I try
so hard to ignore.

One day they will burst.

They can’t hold you forever.

Let these eyes drain,
I am desperate for release.


About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Other Trivial Pursuits, Recollecting India, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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