from The Milk/Scotch poetry collection…

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remember the time

I couldn’t see living through that moment of pulsating heart ache?

Unsure if I was missing a person or missing being in love and loved in return.

but it was there, pounding in my chest,

a stew of fear, anxiety, worry.

no escape from the mute yet alive part of me.

haunting.

but where is it now?

lurking? Or dead?

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