Like a cat,
I've nine times to die —
and love has taken seven.
Once,
when you said my name like it was a question.
Twice,
when you answered it with silence.
Thrice,
when you loved someone else
in front of me
like I was made of stone
instead of soul.
I keep returning —
from wreckage,
from wreck,
from wreck again.
You don't know
how many lives I’ve lost
just staying alive
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