It's only my heart.
Chipped away, calcified
fragments all over the place.
Coherence that's all.
The blue butterfly
a toy in the hands
of little Catie.
Always fluttering
touch and go
playing tag with spirits.
It's just my heart
a very brief second in passing.
One of my guides
wears chaps, boots and a hat,
riding a stick pony.
How did this happen to me?
He is not there for me,...
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