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The pain of your soul ripping apart
caused by an old friend 
who stabbed you in the back
face like a mask, unblinking
as she watched you slowly bleed.
And you reeled away, in shock
unbelieving
feeling the slow throbbing
escalating intensity 
of a heart stroke 
of a heart pained.
And you search for breath
you cannot find.
In delirium you remember …
the fine broken veins 
of wilted roses pressed between pages,
the unforgiving glare
of raging orange sunsets by the sea,
the decaying smell
of tired old photographs turning brown,
the lonely tragedy
of missing diamonds on rings,
the not-so-funny comedy
of you, her, and him.
And you look outside 
unto the face of the quiet old moon.
You desperately ask why,
but silence is the only answer
and silver finally falls from your eyes.

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