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Water Ritual
it’s just a simple glass of water,
nothing special, not really
I beg for its healing anyway;
I will it to slide down my throat
a wide and roaring tempest,
to wash away the sticky grief
lodged deep within my chest;
to quench my thirst for peace
in these long and dark hours;
to become the hideous monster,
that chases away the weariness
sewn to my bones’ marrow;
to transform the salt and sorrow
that slides in fresh tracks
down cheeks tired of smiling
and pretending it’s all okay
because it has to be
nothing special, not really
I beg for its healing anyway;
I will it to slide down my throat
a wide and roaring tempest,
to wash away the sticky grief
lodged deep within my chest;
to quench my thirst for peace
in these long and dark hours;
to become the hideous monster,
that chases away the weariness
sewn to my bones’ marrow;
to transform the salt and sorrow
that slides in fresh tracks
down cheeks tired of smiling
and pretending it’s all okay
because it has to be
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