The Mess He Left by Marionette

The Mess He Left

by Marionette in Self-Portraits

Apologies were made for black holes,
where sunlight can never reach.
I love yous lost in the sidewalks' cracks.
Tomorrow made to slip through the palm of you hand,
to blow away,
lost in old woods.
The sadness will come scratching at your windows,
get inside your skin,
take hold and recreate you into a mess.
A mess for all to see, to throw away,
like paper cups held to lips that spoke so many lies

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