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Blame
March 10, 2014
His hands felt like promises.
Fingers interlocked,
He pulled me away from the self I thought I knew.
He found me where I’d looked twice before,
in the seemingly empty spaces among shrapnel from love battles lost, regret, and insecurities.
But then, like promises often do,
he broke away.
And I found myself alone and unfamiliar with the self I am now.
© Brian B., Highland Village, TX
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