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Image for the poem Pandora

Pandora

Quietly, I found myself
a secret place to hide my things
it's in the space,
the vacant places
the empty sockets that were left
the dead veins holding the rest,
holding the rest from a decent shot
at taking a nice, new breath.
It's all I've got.
This is all I've got left.
Try not to leave this place a mess,
when it's time.
When it's the end of the end.
I hope to God I don't think of it.
I hope to God that I can get out of it.

Because I'VE CHANGED.
Atleast I think that I did.
So what the fuck kind of sense does it make to do this?
And I'VE TRIED.
And you fucking know that I did.
Every ounce of hate I've tamed, and let go to the wind.
And I SIGH.
Because it's impossible to win.
There's nothing left to fight for when there's no one left to see it.
It's in the empty, vacant places.
The place where the deepest darks are kept locked a secret.
The empty sockets that it left.|
Quietly, I cursed myself.
I guess I just haven't changed much yet
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