sconnℯssionℯ ≉

sconnℯssionℯ ≉

the poor thing…it howls
audible pain
it thrashes around
trying to regain its feet
but it is broken
but a shadow of what it once was
unrecognizable
painting all around it red with
its own impending doom
I don’t know how it still lives
Tears burn my eyes as I realize
I will have to end it’s misery
because it howls too loud
and tries too hard
and hurts too much
as it dies in my chest
with every thought of you …

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