It’s eating me alive,
dying inside to a melody,
a vow penned in serenity,
a tattoo with a name attached
to a memory.
I’m the warning her mother warned against;
call me a heartbreaker of sorts.
Now she’s shaking in a downpour,
rattled by the guilt of her father’s voice,
striking her eardrum as lightning in tin;
we embraced three sheets to the wind.
Twitter – @AC0040
(© 2023 AC)
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