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Sunday

A cacophony of sound beats around 
inside my brain, deafening drops.

Sunday misery breaking the silence 
of yesterdays. Rainy Mondays, 
no hope for tomorrows.

We come and go. We come and go
when the floodgates of pain are open. 

Forgiveness closes doors 
left ajar in anger. 
Time moves forward, 
changes are subtle, 
inevitable. 

Hope does damage to the living dead. 

Alone in...

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