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The Decrepit Heart Remembers

I once loved so fully, I cracked open beneath the weight of someone who now feels like fog. He was real— once. But time, and the soft grind of sorrow, wore the shape of him away. Still, my heart thumps, a decrepit engine, rattling on with broken rhythm— every beat a memory I wish I didn’t still want. I ache to return, knowing the knives that wait. I am a snake coiled against fire, slithering back toward pain with my eyes wide open. Even in this ruin, something stirs— a pulse, a scent, a breath of maybe. And I, battered and trembling, am not gone yet.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 6/10/2025 12:30:00 PM
- Short deep lines... congratulations on your win in the contest :) -
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trude from the ruins Avatar
Becoming trude from the ruins
Date: 6/13/2025 10:34:00 PM
Thank you so much, Anne-Lise. This poem came from the kind of ache that lingers in the bones—the kind that reshapes you quietly. I didn’t expect it to be seen this way, let alone honored. Your words feel like a soft hand placed on something still healing. I’m deeply grateful. ????

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