on some days I am brought to my knees
on the cold tiles by this harsh grief
black light spilling on the floor
it slams in like a freight train
swept off-track by a tsunami
I stand in its path, eager, willing
it breaks my bones brutally
meat on the butcher's block
I surrender to the knife, kneeling
it shreds me apart slowly
paper boat in a storm
I cannot swim yet I walk into the sea
I ask myself angrily,
how can someone can cry so much?
I am 60% water, how can I not?
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