winds

the hidden winds blew

and what was once written,

is now erased.

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basement

in the basement of his soul,

concealed scars reached up to

turn off the light to his heart.

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carved away by a river of pain,

the worn and jagged edges of his heart

now expose the forgotten sedimentary layer

of how to love himself.

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surrounded by caffeine and smoke,

he painted his portrait

in the misty colors of his personal mythology

to obscure the bruises and scars

only visible to him.

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