The pieces of the letter
falling down on me,
laughing at me,
showing the world
how I failed again
when all I had to do
was to be there
and never let her down.
The pieces of her picture
burning my skin
when I touch them,
tears running down
on my dry lips,
behind the sad whispers
of apology.
If what I did was right
why isn't she here
why am I crying
who ripped my heart out?
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