Loretta's Petals-2
You treat that slice of your life like a black stone.
To be skipped into the middle of black waters.
Drowned, forgotten in an ocean of frost.
But remember it was a slice of my life too.
It would be nice to get some answers.
It was a rough black stone
but part of me and precious nonetheless.
It's no fun being chronically wounded
always seeking answers
sitting in the muck
waiting for the stone to drop into blackness
because your stone was never meant to speak.
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