The Exchange

Flowers still blossom from concrete soil you with would die. She kills herself inside for the living,
Sacrificing her sanity, for the memories.
Until she’s empty.
Betraying love, fulfilled by inconsistency.
Combustible lungs ring of drums.
A beating heart drenched in rum, baked in millimeters of sun.
Robust aching love, more powerful than drugs, continue to grow...where nothing ever lives. Her pain swims through her tears.
Her dried out red eyes tap their foot in anger, unto insanity she would succumb.
Embracing what we lose in life;
Accepting what never comes.
The embers in her tears set off alarms...she’s standing still, in moving cars.
She smells of gaping scars, and of life’s pause; like the old rhythm and blues that used to come on.
A pawn in a game she never agreed to join.
A scorned heart can only live so long.
In her nightmares, she meets the “She” that she once was at a crossroad...the sight of her being too much to bear.
Exchanging glances with different eyes,
At different moments in life,
With a different smile,
The road is closed to keep her from there.
With minimal effort she plants her feet upon her shoulder in seek of the other side.
She runs, and then hides.
Missing The Exchange.

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