Boomerang Heart
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this poem is not about anybody in the soup
Bent love never dies it just keeps bending.
Until it morphs into a burning boomerang.
That smacks you in the chambers of your half-mast heart.
I breathe inside a three-bedroom chasm.
Somewhere between happy and what ifs.
Saying hello to a twenty-six-year-old echo.
Of close calls and head on crash regrets.
You deserve a good life.... I don't.
You've taught me, after decades of decline, what unconditional really is.
It's that satin island that I've been sailing toward upon this broken ship.
Even though I screwed you into the rotting wood of my id.
I'm truly happy that you landed softly in a heart.
That gave you that elusive elixir called.
"What I couldn't give."
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2016
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