Same Mistakes

I think my wings are broken. I think I’m stuck in the ash. Lady Lazarus stopped burning. It’s hard to explain — the distance traveled that cannot be undone — the things I’ve seen. Maybe it’s not; maybe I just don’t want to. Maybe it hurts too much. I always turned sad so easy. I think my heart used to be a peach. I think my heart used to be a canyon. I think my heart used to be a muscle that I didn’t need metaphor to describe, but I could be wrong.

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