by Jacklyn Caudill
I'm a rough patchy mix,
Facing new with out you.
How to get back without forcing.
Chasing the one that let me go,
never let that grip go slack;
I know he knows, but I need him to keep knowing.
that I'm here,
I smile against that choke hold feeling on my throat.
To say and scare you off,
To stay quiet and wait for a possible never return.
Decisions are hardly made in black and white.
Purest forms are stained in soot
as burns have grown lighter in time.
I live in a line,
a stretch of contrast in the bleakest hue,
where I see my tears start on both ends.
My question is never which is better.
Closer to which end will the tears not run as long?
Grey in love,
Cause you left me not knowing what to do.
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