Suicide (Distance)
E
Eric Cockrell
0
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the long slow breath
of your indifferent stare...
miles away, across the room.
your words ring hollow,
and your face disappears
in the gloved hand
that dares not touch...
i planted flowers by your grave,
but i fear the birds
have eaten the last seeds...
i die on your cross
in a land you dare not go to...
behind a door
you choose not to open!
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