

Maeror.Mirror.Meror: ContineoI hadn't had to notice before that the what and the why were uninvolved with the when.Maeror.Mirror.Meror: Contineo
I hadn't thought to think about my riddles. (as cars pass below and around us I can't remember when my nonsense made more sense)
I want you to completely fill my emptiness.
I should feel something like shame (the zephyr drifting from &n


Maeror.Mirror.Meror: VisumI'm one of them. A helpless romantic graced with cynicism and an eye for error.Maeror.Mirror.Meror: Visum
I lose myself in the worn-down chairs, burgundy velour sticky with candy cravings and isolated matinees. (the old rocking chair in the living room, stove-top pop corn, a pint of red wine denied the time to breathe) I watch for the deception of the chest. The inflation of the lungs  


Maeror.Mirror.MerorIt's been assumed I am not grieving. I haven't said aloud that I am grieving.Maeror.Mirror.Meror
It's not my way to discontinue because you did.
I see I hear I taste I feel I smell I live not because you can't, but because you should be, still.
I breathe I sleep I think I speak I pretend it's not too late to lead by example.
I write. I lay blame. I feel guilt. I do not say aloud that I am grieving.
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A cynic only sees beauty in the beautiful
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