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Suitcase

My room implodes
As I pack my bag.
I drag it from the corners
And pull it down to the center
Brushing off the old stardust
To make room for new.
It is a black hole and I
Am on the edge of it
Standing here in a near vacuum
Capturing the last few breaths
Of old air
And holding them in my lungs.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 8/21/2012 2:54:00 PM
enjoyed your poem Gracie
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things