Monday 25 March 2013

Poetry of the Day

For every end there's a new beginning,
or so they say.
They say these other things,
like how happy they are for them, and so on.

It feels like falling behind, is what it feels like.
Every joyful congratulations is a twitch at my brow,
a tic in my side.

I look for you in magazines.
To check your wedding ring.
Is it hanging on too tight?

Hanging on to our pasts is so deceitful. But so tempting.
My call. Do I follow the link, click through?

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