Original Poetry

Just when I’m learning

how to climb out of the abyss

I threw myself down all that

time ago,

he threw down a rope ladder.

The edges were frayed,

the fabric worn,

unsteady. Unreliable.

16 steps up and

he

let

go.

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Original Poetry

A Poet’s Curse

They warned her:

Never fall for a poet. 

They’ll be the ones 

to rip your heart out

barehanded

and weep when you bleed.

And then they’ll write about it

like they were the victims. 

Like they lost everything. 

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