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a shotgun i pulled the trigger on left a gaping hole in my chest

and i wanted to fill it back up 

with the splintered bones, torn skin, and rotted flesh

but you told me not to

said that it wouldn’t ever heal that way and i should let it go

i thought you were crazy

but you told me “i’ve been here before”

and you showed me a scar across your chest 

purple and smooth and healed 

with the flattened bullet hanging around your neck

and you told me to trust you

and i did.

  • i’m alive and i wont say that you’re the reason 

but you were the light my lost moth mind was drawn to

Published by Robin

Poetry author from Pennsylvania

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