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Mother
I know it was better when full
but I enjoyed the consumption
and now there is nothing left.
Just an empty can.
I want to squeeze it hard just to get a response
but that just renders the useless ugly;
So I place it with the others,
unharmed
on a half soaked table,
watching tv
I get up for a pee, passing the mirror on the way.
Knowingly.
This time, I no longer see me.
It looks back.
I/'/m one of many,
but only one.
I cried at the funeral
but not before;
not when you were in that bed,
and we had to decide.
Well Me?
I was too sensible, too objective
too empty.
My memory wears thin.
All is grey.
My love for you is lost in polaroid.
I have no remedy, and don/'/t yearn for one.
This is me
This is now
I am of no heart
(which would break it).
Where do I go from here?
I don/'/t know.
I/'/ll start with the fridge.
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