Fissure
like a fissure,
leaves you half the person,
an echo, a shadow.
lodges in a safer place,
makes it harder to laugh,
harder to be you.
more precious still,
thinking it might be your last,
that the sun might not rise.
you’d rather it would leave,
but here it is, warning you
about the end.
waiting for you to fall.
Your life isn’t what it was,
and can’t be now, at all.
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