Write Out

I still wear him on my skin

He is hanging on to the edge of my heart, sitting in the hallway next to the exit and the entrance

He defiantly denies to enter either door

So I severed us with my pen so that he can no longer linger

I will write him out of me until not even a single memory exist

The plight of a sad artist

 

By Janell Hihi

Copyright@2016

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