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canyons, craniums

i don’t need canyons to hear
the echoes of my own words or
footsteps from the deep – my cranium
already possesses the capability to
haunt me with memories running ragged
on threadbare wheels each time i slip
uncomfortably into sleep – no need to litter
lonely rocks and broken hearted stones with
bitter reflections i have broken up
into sharp untouchable parts long cold
from absence of affection

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: bitter

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