it is a brittle and deep ache
injected in me, a feeling i
involuntarily succumb to
because of the many times i look up
towards the eternal and find
a blank stare returning my gaze.
nobody but i will comprehend
how much i have tried to perfect
the circle of all the hope i had in me;
they said circles are better shapes
because they are harder to break
but nobody ever told me
how hard it was to mend one
already cracked.
it is as if the whole world is
crumbling at my fingertips
and the disaster is too beautiful to fix
so i resolve to sitting back
and learning how to let it eat me up
without feeling the blow
when i hit rock bottom.
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